


The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by AyuOhseki



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Bathing/Washing, Deliberately Nebulous Time Period, Explicit Language, Fantasy Japan, Implied Sexual Content, Imprisonment, Isolation, M/M, Magical Realism, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 64,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25445977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyuOhseki/pseuds/AyuOhseki
Summary: Goro lives in and tends to a water-locked lighthouse alone. He is used to solitude--numb to it, even. But one night during a raging storm, a handsome stranger bangs on his doorstep, seeking refuge. Now Goro must grapple between his aching need for human companionship and his deep hatred for his own sins.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 154
Kudos: 588
Collections: Marigolds Discord Recs, persona fic recommendations





	1. The Tempest

**Author's Note:**

> ~~this is just a bunch of self-indulgent garbage i'm writing in between my other projects. don't expect too much from it~~
> 
> this is still self-indulgent but idk people seem to like it so i guess it's all right

As always, Goro awoke to the sound of gulls and the smell of salt. As always, he left the warmth of his bed to tend to his personal hygiene and get dressed in an off-white men’s kimono. As always, he set a kettle full of water on the stove to boil and retrieved a ball of dough from the freezer to bake in the oven. And as always, while the stove warmed and the oven pre-heated, he wandered downstairs, careful not to catch his ankle chain on anything, and out to the railed balcony that circled his abode.

The ocean stretched out endlessly in all directions.

Technically, it wasn’t _really_ endless. Land was but a few miles to the east and west. But if it was far enough away that he couldn’t see it, it amounted to the same thing. The skies above were sunny, a tinge of pink still in the clouds to the east, but there was a certain smell to the wind, which whipped at his face, that assured him a storm would arrive later in the day. He grimaced and went back inside.

Up the spiral staircase Goro climbed, past the generator, past the septic tank and rain filtration system/fresh water tanks, past the storage freezer and washer/dryer, back to his living quarters. He adjusted the monthly calendar, which hung from a thin nail near his bed, by crossing off the last day of May and flipping up the page. Then he watered his plants. Gardening wasn’t his forte, so they existed only to supplement his monthly rations, but it felt nice to have something around that needed him.

The oven was ready, so he popped the bread in to bake and set a timer. The kettle was screaming, so he turned off the stove and poured the water into a mug with instant coffee. It being the beginning of the month, his fridge was nigh empty. Goro being himself, that was because he had portioned out his rations perfectly. One last breakfast’s worth of orange marmalade; one last portion of preserved meat. Soon enough, he had a breakfast of toast and jam with sliced summer sausage and coffee to drink.

As the sunlight shifted, so too did the outside sounds. Goro diligently washed, dried, and put away his dishes, then dusted the shelves, swept the floors, and gathered the trash. He carried the trash bags up to the light chamber where, at night, a brilliant light spun round and round for the good of the seafaring community. It, too, was surrounded by a railed balcony. As he waited for the galleon liner now on the horizon to complete its approach, he cleaned the floors, panels, and windows. It was a routine he had down to an exact science; he finished just as the ship arrived and had time enough to walk out to the balcony and greet the captain.

Said captain, dark-eyed and silver-haired, clad in a dark gray naval uniform with gold trim befitting her station, disembarked first--as always, of course. She strode, straight-backed and square-shouldered, across the boarding bridge to the topside balcony to greet him. Goro stepped back in deference to allow her room and gave her a polite nod, which she returned curtly. He didn’t smile at her. She didn’t smile at him. Instead, she barked orders to her crew, who brought in the new month’s supplies with practiced speed.

The captain handed Goro a clipboard with a list on it. In silence, he surveyed what the crew brought on board and checked it off the checklist accordingly. In the box at the bottom, he wrote in a list of the long-term supplies that would need replacing in the near future. Then, as always, he listed his personal requests: books, newspapers, coffee. He handed the clipboard back to the captain, and she surveyed it, her expression severe. As always.

“You never ask for anything more,” she remarked, which was a little unusual.

“I ask for what I can reasonably expect to receive,” he replied. Ah. His voice was somewhat scratchy. When was the last time he’d spoken…? Was it days? Weeks? Probably only days. It was only scratchy, rather than rusted into near-uselessness.

She looked at him, or perhaps more accurately, stared him down. He met her stare with apathy. Even without the severity of her usual glare, her regard was piercing, but he’d long since learned how to meet them without backing down.

“You can ask for a _little_ more,” she said.

He smiled. What an absurd sentiment. “Why do you say that?”

Her lips pursed. Was it his imagination, or was she hesitating? “It… _is_ a special day, tomorrow.”

His eyelashes drooped. Ah. “I don’t think my father--excuse me. I don’t think _His Imperial Majesty_ would like hearing you speak like that.”

To her credit, she didn’t flinch at the pointed reminder of--everything. She only turned her scowl to the line of supplies going back at forth. “Have you been well? No sickness or injuries?”

What did she have to push this for? He shut his eyes. “None.”

“There’s a fresh store of medicine with this shipment, as you can see from the list. Even if you’ve been well, medicine does eventually lose its efficacy,” she continued.

 _I know that._ “How kind of you.”

She paused. He opened his eyes to see her staring at him with narrowed eyes again.

“What?” he added.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.” A beat. The basic crew had finished moving supplies and taking away the trash; now the engineers were coming aboard to make their routine inspections. She pulled one of the crewmen aside and murmured something to them before sending them on their way. Then she resumed her position next to Goro. “Any issues with any of the systems?”

“No. At least, none that I’ve noticed,” he added, watching the engineers pass by. One of them snuck a glance at him; when their eyes met, the engineer practically fled inside. His lips twisted into a sour smile. “I imagine your people might have a keener eye.”

“And the lighthouse light…?”

He laughed coldly. “It still burns bright, I assure you.”

She nodded once and said nothing more.

Eventually, the engineers retreated too. The captain commenced her own inspection. Goro followed dutifully behind her to the extent his chain would allow. He wasn’t concerned. She hadn’t found fault with his execution of his lightkeeper duties in over five years, and she wouldn’t today either. And she didn’t. Finding the controls clean, the window panes clean, the weather instruments fine-tuned, and the central illumination source curled up obediently in its lantern-cage, she gave him a curt nod of approval--the best he ever got, each month.

At which point she usually left. This time, though, she asked, “Have you seen any pirate ships in the area lately?”

“Pirate ships?” he echoed in surprise. He shook his head. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. I don’t know whose flags signal what companies.”

“I see. In that case, be on the lookout for a ship that flies a flaming top hat. If you see it, be sure to record the sighting _precisely_ and report it to me next month.”

He laughed. He had to, at such an obvious joke. “Yes, I will definitely do that.”

“Good,” she replied with unabated gravity. It abruptly reminded Goro that this was not a woman who made jokes. Ever.

Before he could question her further, though, she strode for the exit. A crew person greeted her at the gateway. They handed her a medium-sized crate, which she turned and handed to Goro.

“Here,” she said brusquely.

He accepted it. It was rather heavy. “What’s inside?”

“See for yourself.”

He frowned. Presumably she didn’t mean right this second, but he was briefly tempted to do exactly that. He squelched the urge. Nearly seven years on this godforsaken rig hadn’t killed all his social skills yet.

“Also…” She folded her arms and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Before we arrived, we received word that a typhoon is forming to the east and headed this way. Do be careful.”

 _I know that too._ And was that concern? How cute. “I will.”

She strode out, raising an arm and barking orders. The last of the crew followed her. Soon, her ship left too. Goro watched them go for a while. Then he brought the crate downstairs.

The other supplies had been unloaded already, the crates they’d been carried in carried away. Fresh foods were on the table and counter; preserved and frozen foods would be downstairs in the storage freezer; other goods were stacked up on the floor next to the counter. Goro would need to put everything away, but first, he made room for the crate on the table and opened it up.

Inside was a stack of old newspapers, several columns of secondhand paperback books, and a few bags of instant coffee. His usual extras. Also inside was a meticulously wrapped, soft, rectangular package and a card. He opened the card first. It read:

_Goro,_

_It’s been six and a half years since you were sentenced to maintain this lighthouse. While I’m sure you find it preferable to the alternative, I’m just as sure that you’re terribly b_ _ored_ _at your post. While there’s nothing either of us can do about that, I hope this eases t_ _he tedium_ _somewhat._

_You’ve done well so far. Parole isn’t impossible once you make it to your tenth year, and you’re closer to the end than you are to the beginning. Keep working hard and behaving yourself. You have so much more to offer to the world than this._

_Happy 25_ _th_ _birthday. I’ll see you again next month._

_\--Sae_

Goro sighed and set down the card. Was she really that sentimental, or was she mocking him? She _wasn’t_ sentimental. She had to be mocking him. What idiot would actually believe his father would ever let him go free, after all?

He unwrapped the package next, and its contents changed his mind. With a gasp of delighted surprise, he picked up a ribbon-bound package of fine roasted Jamaican Blue Mountain number one coffee beans. He dared loosen the ribbon just enough to breathe in its scent. Ahh…! A genuine smile curled up his lips. How many years had it been since he’d last had truly quality coffee? He breathed in again. _So good._ She couldn’t be mocking him, at least not intentionally, if she’d slipped in something this nice. How droll. He never would have guessed Sae still expected anything from him.

A hunch made him dig through the rest of the box. Goro appreciated any and all reading material, even if it was old and cheap, but--yes! There, at the bottom, was an actual _hardback_ , and a lunker of one, entitled _The M_ _idnight Fog_. A Naoto Shirogane detective novel, purportedly based on an actual serial murder case where several bizarre deaths shattered the seemingly idyllic peace of a small rural town. Dismay and excitement thrilled through him in equally electric measures as he moved from the title to the blurb. While he was familiar with the case, he definitely hadn’t read the novelized version before (unlike most of the secondhand paperbacks), so it would be new and engaging, but… did it have to be a mystery novel?

 _But you love mysteri_ _es_ _,_ he could just hear her say, eyebrows furrowed in lack of comprehension. And that was true--or rather, it had been at one point. Now…

Well, now beggars couldn’t be choosers. Sae meant well. For right now, Goro could let his bitterness go enough to acknowledge that much. Once he finished putting everything away, mopped up the footprints everyone had tracked inside, and secured all doors and windows for the coming storm, he curled up on his beat-up old sofa to read. He’d save the coffee for his actual birthday tomorrow, and indulge in literature for tonight.

For all his initial trepidation, the storyline yanked him in and kept him engrossed. He didn’t even notice when the typhoon darkened the skies and began to moan. He _did_ notice when the central light went on, but the way his chest throbbed couldn’t be ignored. He endured the pain for the moment it spiked, then fixed a light meal and returned to his reading.

The unusual thing about this particular novel was its emphatic focus on matters outside the murder mystery itself--about the bonds the investigation team formed with one another. So much rich character development! So many subplots weaving in and out of the main narrative! When he was younger, Goro might have found it tedious and annoying; in the present day, it was nepenthe to his scarred soul. This drug carried him into the earliest hours of morning, and no howling winds could pull him from it.

No, what accomplished that was the lighthouse shuddering from the crash of a storm surge.

Goro dropped his book, which rebounded off the couch and flopped to the floor. He cursed as he picked it up, then looked around warily. The lighthouse was built on a steel and stone structure that went all the way down to the bay floor, so it was remarkably sturdy, and he’d taken care to secure all entrances for the storm. Still, that had been a hell of a jolt. That wave had even slobbered on the window near his perch.

 _I’d better check the light,_ he thought. _Just in case._

Climbing the spiral stairs up, he looked first and foremost to the light in its cage. Rays poured out in a spinning circle, piercing the ravenous gloom of the storm. Goro clutched his chest as he watched it for a moment; then he looked away. No. It was fine, for a relative value of “fine.” The windows were holding up--naturally; they were made of stronger stuff than mere glass--and while they rattled even in their steel nests, nothing sounded in danger of coming loose--

BANG BANG BANG BANG.

Goro whirled to face the noise and nearly jumped out of his skin. There, ramming a fist on the door as if his life depended on it, was a man. A human being? Irrationally, he thought at first it must be a sea monster in the guise of a human, but there was something about the desperation with which he pounded again on the door, the words _PLEASE LET ME IN_ that his lips formed, the sounds stolen away by the storm. Goro gawked at him, wondering if he was hallucinating. Then the man pounded a third time, weaker than before, and clutched at the entrance as the storm winds surged again.

He shook his head and rushed over to the door. Much longer, and the storm would blow this mysterious stranger away. How had he even _gotten_ here? Was he indeed human, or was this some sort of ghost? Goro didn’t know. But he _wanted_ to know with a ferocity that sped his hands as he unlocked and opened the entrance.

The typhoon immediately tried to rip them from his grip. The man immediately collapsed on him. Goro yanked the doors shut with the stranger’s waterlogged weight to aid him, then rammed the locks shut again.

The man trembled in his arms as he panted for breath. Goro held him out at arm’s length to get a better look at him. At a guess, they were about the same age and height, though it was hard to tell for sure. His skin was clammy and pale; his black hair was plastered all over his face; his high-necked dark gray vest corded shut with gold buttons, white button-up shirt with ruffled wrists, thin gold chain necklace, black trousers and boots, and red gloves and sash were soaked and dripping seawater everywhere. As Goro looked him over, the stranger heaved, convulsed, staggered away a few steps, and vomited more seawater all over his floor. His freshly-mopped floor!!

“Would you stop that?” he demanded, aggravated, as he grabbed the stranger by the shoulder.

On the one hand, the stranger did stop. On the other hand, the stranger stopped because he passed out. Goro had to catch him. Well, he had weight, and for the time being he had a pulse, so he was definitely alive. If Goro wanted to find out his story, he’d have to keep him that way. He dragged him downstairs to the bathroom.

First he peeled the stranger’s waterlogged clothing off. Then Goro toweled him dry. It was at this point, now that the stranger no longer resembled a drowned rat, that he noticed his face (attractive) and physique (lean and strong). By then, it was too late _not_ to ogle. Goro brushed the (tall, dark, and handsome, he noticed wryly) stranger’s damp curls from his face and watched him breathe for a moment. Then he shook his head to clear his mind.

The stranger’s skin was still alarmingly cold. His pulse was weak; his breath, shallow. Goro tied a clean towel around the stranger’s waist for modesty, then carried him to bed and tucked him in with all the blankets he had. Little by little, the stranger’s breath deepened, and his color improved a bit. Goro noted these things while he knelt at his side for a time. Eventually, he left to start a load of laundry and re-mop the upstairs. The boots, he left to drain and dry in the shower. At last, fatigue prickling at his consciousness, he retired to the couch.


	2. The Stranger

By the time Goro awoke early in the morning, the worst of the typhoon had passed. Gone inland, no doubt. A drizzle remained in its wake to signal the start of the rainy season. While he didn’t care for the rainy season, he did like storms. Their fury and danger resonated with his soul.

Goro did his daily morning routine, including transferring the wash to the dryer, save that he opened the kitchen window and fixed breakfast for two. (For two! He hadn’t done that since his partnership days with Sae, and then only a rare once in a while. A different kind of excitement buoyed his steps.) Bread might be hard on a physically weakened person, he figured, so he opted for simpler fare. Rice porridge and miso soup, each with plenty of chopped leek to stave off illness, soon perfumed the air. Goro grated daikon and carrots for a light side dish, then considered making a pot of Blue Mountain coffee to share, but… no. Later, perhaps. Once the stranger was awake and could be properly impressed.

Almost as if in response to that thought, the stranger coughed, stirred, and whispered for water. Goro turned off the stove and hurried over with a glass. Gently, so gently, he helped him sit up and tilted the glass to his lips. The stranger drank. Once he’d had his fill, he slumped against him, chest heaving.

Goro couldn’t tear his eyes off of him. Over the night, the man’s curls had dried… His rumpled hair gave him a bit of a wild, untamed look that Goro found alluring. And… though it was just circumstance, surely, but… the way he leaned on him, like he wanted him, _needed_ him… It was a silly thought. Of course the stranger was acting that way after nearly drowning to death. He’d act like that for anybody who’d happened to pull him out of that storm. It just happened to be Goro.

Goro’s heart beat a little faster anyway. Surely a moment’s fantasy did neither of them any harm…?

Little by little, the stranger’s breathing slowed. It didn’t exactly stop being labored, though. And while his color had improved a bit, it’d gone the other way--from pale to flushed. Goro pressed a hand to his forehead, then checked his own. Yes, the stranger was definitely feverish. Little wonder, there. With care and caution, he laid the man down and pulled the covers snugly back over him.

“I’ll have something to eat for you in just a little longer,” he murmured, kneeling next to him. “It seems you’re sick, so I’ll fetch you some medicine, too. For now, rest and regain your strength. All right?”

The stranger opened his eyes.

They were beautiful--a deep, dark gray, like the storm he’d barely survived, only a few shades lighter than his hair. Yet their beauty was less in their color but in their intensity. The man stared at him as if there was nothing else in the world worth noticing. Goro could have fallen forever into that all-consuming darkness.

A moment later, though, it ebbed. With a faint grunt of acknowledgment, the stranger nodded.

Goro let out a little sigh. A little disappointing. He liked that intensity. But the stranger couldn’t help that he was ill. He dared stroke his hair with the backs of his fingers, once, twice.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, offering him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “You’re safe now.”

And the stranger smiled back.

It transformed his face. He had already been decently handsome, but aside from his eyes, none of his features had really stood out much individually. That smile, though… Goro couldn’t describe it as anything less than _d_ _ivine_ , for the way it warmed his eyes and deepened his cheekbones and gave him an air of sweet innocence. For that smile, Goro would do near anything.

All too soon, it too ebbed. The stranger shut his eyes, and as if he’d lost his meager strength, his head flopped onto the pillow. Sweat trickled down his face as his breathing slowed again. Had he already fallen asleep again…? Goro touched his face to (feel more of him) be certain. Sure enough, the stranger had not so much drifted as dived into slumber.

He smiled again in affection. Rolling back onto his heels, he rose and returned to the kitchen. Once he’d finished, he ate his own portion first to give the stranger time to rest. Then he fetched some medicine from the bathroom. What perfect timing that Sae had replenished his stock yesterday!

 _Today will be a good day,_ he thought, and hummed in pleasure.

The stranger woke up for him when he came to feed him and give him medicine--and Goro did feed him, spoonful by spoonful--but soon the stranger slumped anew. At least he’d eaten decently well. That was an encouraging sign. Once more, Goro tucked him in and let him rest, but this time, he watched him sleep a while longer.

 _Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you end up here?_ he wondered. _I want to know. I want to learn everything about you. I want us to wile the hours away simply talking about each other, well past the dark of twilight…_

Birthday or no birthday, though, Goro could only let himself indulge for so long. While keeping an eye on his ‘guest’ in case he needed anything more, he started on his daily chores. Several more times through the day, the stranger whispered for water, and Goro obliged; otherwise, he was a quiet patient, content to sleep away his fever. He had a bit more strength around lunch, when he managed to eat a few orange slices on top of breakfast’s leftovers, and more still at dinner, when he finished his meal and swallowed a fresh dose of medicine.

The stranger smiled at him again then, and Goro managed the courage to simply hold him--not to support him as he ate, but to wrap an arm around him and pull him close. The stranger offered no resistance, and indeed soon fell asleep with his head on Goro’s shoulder.

With tender care, he set him down and touched his forehead. His temperature seemed much better. Hopefully he’d be well entirely by the next morning. Goro tucked him in, tidied up, and attempted to settle in on the couch with _The Midnight Fog_. However, he simply couldn’t concentrate on it. After re-reading the same three pages over the course of an hour, he set it down and returned to the stranger’s bedside.

He’d shifted in his sleep. His color and breathing seemed approximately normal, and he rested on his side, one hand curled up out from the covers. Goro knelt down and rested his arms on the mattress and his head on his arms. The man’s face was so close by, he could feel the movement of his breath… Swallowing hard, Goro hesitantly layered his hand over the man’s. Their fingers sank together, and their palms cupped…

Guilt flashed through him. Wasn’t he taking advantage of his guest’s weakness? Surely this level of intimacy crossed a line. Shameful. Yet Goro found himself loathe to pull away. It was so… relaxing. So peaceful.

 _Just for a little bit,_ he told himself, eyelids drooping. _Just a little bit longer…_

* * *

When the early morning sunlight stirred him awake, Goro opened his eyes to see the stranger watching him.

Flushed with panic, Goro snatched himself back and ripped his hand out of the stranger’s. The stranger, head resting on his pillow, seemed unperturbed. He did, however, sit up under his own power, blankets falling to his lap. Certain his face was bright red, Goro sat up straight, ducked his head, and planted his hands firmly on his lap.

“Ah… G-good morning,” he managed. He swallowed hard and dared a peek up at the man. The stranger remained composed, his gaze clear and strong, that intensity back in his eyes. Goro’s heart skipped a beat. “H-how are you feeling? Are you all right…?”

 _He’s an angel,_ he thought with longing.

The stranger held Goro’s gaze for a few seconds. Then he looked down at his bare torso and barely covered legs. “Fine, except for the part where I’m naked.”

_Wh--?!_

The stranger grinned, and once more his face was transformed--but this time, to diabolically wicked amusement. He raked a hand through his curls and winked at him. “Get a good look at the goods, did you? Like what you see?”

 _He’s a devil!!_ he thought in outrage.

The stranger leaned in and tilted Goro’s chin up. “What’s the matter?” he purred, his breath hot on Goro’s lips. “Cat got your tongue…?”

At a loss for what else to do, Goro slapped him. Then, mortified at them both, he stormed off back to the kitchen. _Of course. Of course! The first_ _real_ _company I’ve had in seven years, and he’s utterly obnoxious!!_

“Hey,” the stranger called after him. “Uh, could I have my clothes back? Please?”

Goro stopped. He took a deep breath, then two. Then he altered course to stalk downstairs and retrieve the stranger’s now-dried clothes. After hurling them in the insufferable rake’s face, _then_ he stormed back to the kitchen.

“Thaaank yooou,” the stranger lilted.

Goro didn’t respond and refused to look. Instead, he busied himself with breakfast prep. In the background, he heard the soft pad of footsteps cross the floor over to the bathroom, heard the door shut. Some time later, he heard a flush; some time after that, the rush of shower water sounded.

Well, good. _Good_. Now that he was better, he was also completely competent! How good for him!! Goro managed not to slam the oven door behind the day’s loaf of bread and definitely didn’t hurl a pair of link sausages into the frying pan after a couple of crushed eggs.

Eventually, the sound of water stopped. The stranger emerged some time later, brushing back his still slightly damp locks. It looked like his boots had finished drying, because he wore them along with the rest of his clothes. Well, except for his shirt and vest, which he hadn’t finished buttoning up. In the time he’d taken, Goro had finished cooking--a meager feat, since he tended towards quick, simple meals. He kept the man in the corner of his eye but still refused to look directly at him. Instead, he set one serving on the table and the other on the counter, then seated himself at the counter.

“Breakfast is served,” he announced coldly, then tore into his toast.

“Thank you,” the stranger repeated, this time like a normal human being. He walked over, but paused at the tableau, looking back and forth between table and counter. “…Do you only have one chair per spot?”

“I live alone here,” Goro snapped. For some reason, the stranger had still failed to button his shirt up all the way, and it made him extra irritable. “Eat your food.”

“Sure.” He sat at the table, and they ate back-to-back in silence.

The quiet gave Goro’s temper time to die down. He wasn’t even sure why he was so upset. So the mysterious, handsome stranger was actually a dick. Wasn’t he used to reality failing to live up to hopes and expectations? He was probably just some sailor who’d fallen overboard during the storm and was lucky enough to get tossed onto the lighthouse. No mystery at all.

“So, I think we got off on the wrong foot,” the stranger said then.

“Do you?” Goro replied archly.

“Well, yeah. I’m sorry for offending you. I didn’t mean to, really.”

A nice sentiment. Almost sincere, even. Goro waited for the other shoe to drop.

Sure enough: “But look at it from my perspective!”

_Here we go._

“After an eon of being dizzy with fever, I wake up in an unfamiliar bed, holding hands with the handsomest man I’ve ever feasted eyes upon. Can you blame me for immediately wanting to flirt?”

Goro shot him a wide-eyed stare. The stranger grinned that exquisite grin of his. Goro quickly averted his gaze and cursed the pounding of his heart.

 _You’re pathetic,_ he told himself. _Are a few sweet words all it takes to make you melt? You’ve been alone too long._

He slipped off the stool and carried his empty dishes to the sink. “If you’re done, bring those over, please,” he said, keeping his voice clipped.

Thankfully, the stranger obeyed this time without making a circus of it. Instead, he watched Goro as he washed and scrubbed. He cleared his throat. “Uh, would you like me to help out?”

“No,” he said, clipped, and then as an afterthought added, “Thank you,” because the offer was at least a kind one.

The stranger looked all around the living quarters. No doubt he took in the kitchenette with its freezer/fridge, sink, cabinets, toaster, rice cooker and microwave, it counter and single stool; the fire extinguisher hanging nearby; the dining table and its single chair opposite it; the beat-up red couch a greater distance away and the coffee table in front of it; the bed in one corner; the door to the bathroom in another corner; the wardrobe and cupboards in between; the bookshelves hammered into the wall and the books that filled them; the netting underneath, filled with various goods that Goro needed to put away at some point; the exercise mat on a bare part of the hardwood floors; the clock by the counter and the calendar near the bed hanging on the bland white wallpapered walls; the meager decorations, little more than a couple of old framed paintings and some naval detritus; the potted herbs sitting in the kitchen window and the bigger potted tomatoes and peppers sunning beyond; and the spiral stairway along one wall that lead both up and down.

Then, inevitably, he looked down and frowned. Goro looked away to avoid the equally inevitable questions. The stranger, however, just walked out of the kitchenette.

Goro breathed a faint sigh of relief and resumed cleaning. However, ignoring the stranger soon proved to be a mistake. A shudder bolted up his spine, and he whipped around to see the stranger holding up a length of the chain between both arms.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“This thing is weird,” the stranger non-answered. He gave two long, heaving pulls of the end that snaked upstairs, then one hard yank; he failed to reach the end of its give. His frown deepened, and he looked at Goro. “Why are you chained up?”

“Stop it! Put that down!” Goro snapped, shaking. His ankle cuff burned with cold.

To his meager credit, the stranger obeyed. The links clattered on the floor; Goro shuddered anew, dropped the cutlery in the sink, and clutched his stomach.

In a flash, the stranger crossed back to the kitchenette and grabbed Goro’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

Faster than thought, Goro slapped his hands away. “I said _stop it_!!”

Wide-eyed, the stranger retreated a step or two. Silence hung between them like a shroud. After an agonizingly long moment, Goro stopped trembling. He busied himself anew with the sink.

The stranger stared at him a little longer. Then he coughed into one hand. “So, ah… Where am I?” he finally asked.

“You are in a lighthouse at the mouth of Tokyo Bay, where the Uraga Channel meets the sea,” Goro responded, stiff and robotic. “There was a typhoon two nights ago. By some stroke of the devil’s own luck, you made it here instead of drowning at sea. I let you in. You passed out with a fever. You slept off most of yesterday while I treated you. Now you’re awake and in my kitchen.”

The stranger squinted. “Wait. A lighthouse where the Uraga Channel joins the bay and the sea… You don’t mean the _E_ _xile_ _’s_ Lighthouse, do you?”

Goro’s shoulders sagged. “I do,” he replied wearily.

“Rumor’s always said this place was haunted!”

“Do I look like a ghost to you?”

The stranger looked him up and down, most pointedly at his feet. “…Guess not.” A pause, wherein Goro was certain he’d bring up the chain and manacle again. Instead, the stranger gave him an assessing look Goro didn’t like. “So--you’re the lightkeeper, then?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Another pause. Then: “It sounds like I owe you my life.” The stranger smiled, this time subdued but warm. “Thank you.”

Goro couldn’t help but glance over at him. Something in his chest squeezed tight, and he found himself at a loss for words. He quickly returned to rinsing. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled.

The stranger lifted his arms and gave himself a once-over. “By the way--is this all I was wearing when you, uh, let me in?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

His expression turned wistful. “Damn. I must’ve…” He turned his gaze out a window to the open sea. “Well, better to be alive.”

Goro dried off and put away the last of the dishes. Then he let curiosity return his attention to the stranger. (Why hadn’t he buttoned up his shirt and vest properly? He’d had plenty of time to do so. It was so _unkempt_.) “How _did_ you survive that storm?” he wondered. “What happened to you?”

He grinned and winked. “Are you that desperate to know?”

Goro rolled his eyes.

“Kidding, kidding! Basically, my ship was caught up in that typhoon. While we were trying to head for the eye, I fell overboard saving someone else from the same. After a lot of extremely desperate swimming and, as you say, the devil’s own luck, a storm surge kindly deposited me on your front door, which I banged on in the hopes that someone would let me in. Which you did. And now here I am.”

Goro sighed. So, in other words, he was some sailor who’d fallen overboard and gotten tossed onto the lighthouse. _I knew it._

“Do you have any flares or anything like that?” the stranger added. “I wanna signal my crew, let ‘em know I’m here and alive. Don’t want ‘em to grieve for no reason.”

A reasonable concern. If it were Goro, he absolutely would have assumed the stranger had died. “Unfortunately, no. On that point, I’m afraid your luck has run out.” Goro turned to face him. “The Exile’s Lighthouse is well-named. A supply ship comes by only once a month, and it last arrived two days ago, before the storm. There are otherwise no boats here and thus no port. Anyway, as you so indelicately put it, most people believe this place is haunted and so don’t approach. Until the supply ship returns in another month, I’m afraid you’re stuck here.”

The stranger’s smile faded in slow measures as Goro spoke. “Ah.” A pause. Then he smiled anew. “Well, at least I have good-looking company.”

Goro smiled back despite himself. Yes, at least there was that.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he added. “Mine is Ren.”

 _Ren,_ he mentally repeated. It had a nice ring to it. “Goro.”

His smile widened back into a grin. It really did make him infuriatingly better-looking. He dipped into a flourish of a bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Goro.”

“If only I could say the same.” He slipped past Ren and head for the couch, where _The Midnight Fog_ patiently awaited him.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Ren didn’t follow. “Are you really that mad at me still?” he asked. “Come on. I didn’t mean any harm. But then, I guess I caused harm anyway.” And then, more subdued: “I’m sorry. Really.”

Despite himself, Goro looked up. Ren… seemed earnest. He pursed his lips, looked at the ceiling for a moment, and sighed. “No, I… I should be sorry. As I mentioned, I live here alone, and… I’m… unused to company. As a result, I blew things out of proportion. I apologize.”

“It’s fine.” He smiled. “Hey. How about I make it up to you?”

He shot him a frown. “Make it up how?”

Ren gestured at the can of instant coffee on the counter. “D’you have any real beans? I make a _damn_ good cup of coffee.”

Goro’s thoughts skated over to his precious birthday present. For all that he enjoyed coffee, he was not especially good at making it. If Ren was as skilled as he claimed… Well. It was worth taking a gamble. “The upper middle cupboard to your right.”

Ren opened it up. He whistled as he pulled out the bag of Blue Mountain. “Nice! I love this stuff. How do you have something this great in a cesspit of instant?”

“It was a birthday present. Instant is usually all I get.”

“Oh yeah? When was your birthday?”

“Yesterday.”

Ren’s eyebrows flew up as he stared over at him. Then he grinned. “Happy slightly belated birthday, then!”

Goro smiled. He couldn’t help it, honestly. Ren’s smile was truly infectious.

“How about I make you dinner tonight as a present and a thank-you?” he offered.

“I’d… like that,” Goro admitted, brushing his long hair back.

“Great! But first, let me make you that coffee.”

Goro watched him for a moment from afar; then he seated himself at the counter and watched him up close. It seemed like Ren _did_ know what he was doing. He fetched the coffee grinder that had been next to the bag of Blue Mountain, cleaned it thoroughly, and ground the beans by hand. Goro rested his chin on his hands, shut his eyes, and enjoyed the sound and scent. There was something both deeply relaxing and nostalgic about it. The water he boiled, the filters he folded, the way he poured--all of them had the air of a professional barista. Like from his favorite cafe from back in the day…

Ren served a mug to each of them. Goro took a sip. He hummed in bliss, swishing the hot liquid over his tongue before swallowing.

“You weren’t kidding,” he remarked to Ren. “How did you learn to make coffee this good?”

“Believe it or not, I used to work part-time at a fancy-schmancy café.”

Huh. He wouldn’t have figured. “How did you go from coffee to sailing?”

“That’s a long and sordid story.” Ren took a long sip and didn’t elucidate.

 _…Well, fine. Be that way._ “Where do you live? When you’re not sailing, that is.”

“My ship _is_ where I live.” Ren pressed a hand to his chest. (Did he not _realize_ he hadn’t finished dressing himself? How could he not? Goro’s fingers itched to unite buttons with cords and buttonholes.) “I’ve got some home-away-from-homes at various ports of call over the world, but my heart belongs on the open sea.”

“That sounds nice,” Goro admitted. “You must have a lot of fun.”

Ren grinned. “Every day’s an adventure. I can’t wait to get back to it.”

He gave him a thin smile. “I can just imagine. There’s little of value here. You’ll get bored soon.”

He looked around. “I dunno. There’s plenty of books, at least.”

Goro’s opinion of Ren rose. “That reminds me--are you up to date on current affairs?”

“I do keep my ear to the ground, so to speak. What’s up?”

“Have you heard anything about pirates of late?”

Ren took a long sip of coffee. “Pirates?”

“I heard in passing that pirates have been sailing the local waters. If you know anything more… Supposedly they fly a flag of a flaming top hat.” Goro snorted at the memory.

Ren smiled, though. “Ahh, you mean the Phantoms! They’ve been infamous lately. They’re a band of righteous pirates, led by a dashing, daring young captain. They target corrupt imperial ships to steal their goods and redistribute them to the poor.”

Goro snorted again, harder this time. “Righteous pirates? Don’t tell me you believe that drivel.”

Ren’s smile faded. “What?”

“Oh, in fairness, I’m sure there are plenty of rumors romanticizing those pirates floating around, and I expect you’re only repeating what you’ve heard. But I guarantee you: there is no such thing as a righteous criminal.”

“So you don’t think the government’s corrupt?”

“I didn’t say _that_. I _know_ the government is corrupt.” Goro smiled bitterly. “But two wrongs don’t make a right, as they say.”

“Then what do you think people should do about a government that not only won’t listen to them, but actively oppresses them?”

“I don’t know! What am I supposed to be, the arbiter of justice?” Goro snapped. “Anyway, you wouldn’t talk like that if those Phantoms or whatever boarded _your_ ship.”

Ren scratched his head. “Maybe.”

Something about his tone keyed Goro on to the thought that he was just placating him, which made him even angrier. “And button up your shirt! It’s been driving me crazy all morning!” he barked.

“What?” He looked down at himself. His shirt remained almost entirely unbuttoned and open just enough to get a glimpse of his chest all the way down to his abdomen. He grinned up at him. “Driving you crazy, huh? Crazy hooww?”

Goro _did not_ slam his mug down; it was still mostly full of the best coffee he’d had in his adult life, and he intended to savor it as long as possible. However, he _did_ jump off his stool, march into the kitchen, and pin Ren to the counter. “I’ll just do it myself,” he snapped, and proceeded to button Ren’s shirt for him.

It was embarrassingly more difficult than he remembered. When he was a teenager, he wore shirts like this all the time. It should have been easier. Ren didn’t remark on it, though, only gripped the counter behind him while Goro’s fingers fumbled up his cleavage.

At length, he clasped the last shirt button and tied the last vest cord. “There,” he said, straightening Ren’s collar until it looked something like presentable. “That’s better.”

So naturally, Ren immediately undid the top three buttons.

“What did I _just say_?” Goro demanded.

“I can’t stand having a shirt buttoned up all the way,” Ren explained, tone mild. “It makes me feel like I’m suffocating.” He straightened his gold necklace and grinned. “Besides, how’m I supposed to show off my bling otherwise?”

Goro scoffed and rolled his eyes. Well, it was better than how it was before, at least. Small victories.

“Hey.” And all of a sudden, Ren stepped closer and rested a hand on Goro’s shoulder. It made him abruptly, keenly aware of the lack of distance between them, the way his fingertips had brushed against Ren’s skin more than a time or two. “Thanks for caring.”

Goro made the mistake of meeting Ren’s eyes; Ren stared into his own with in intense sincerity that threatened to engulf him like the sea. Once again, words failed Goro. He suspected if he tried to speak anyway, he’d babble like a loon. All he could do was stand rigid, trying desperately to reignite his atrophied ability to interact with another human being.

Before he could manage it, Ren broke eye contact by blinking and looking up slightly. “Hm?” He too stood straight; then he let go of Goro to lay a hand atop his own head. He pushed that hand forward a bit. It bumped into Goro’s crown.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“You’re a little taller than me.” Ren eased back a step and grinned. “I don’t dislike that.”

Goro didn’t know how to react to that either, so he didn’t. He walked around the counter and returned to his coffee. It wouldn’t be half as good once it had turned tepid; he needed to savor it while it was still hot. Thank god, Ren let him. Maybe he realized the same of his own.


	3. The Dance

Half a mug later, Ren set his down and looked around the place again. “So what do you do for fun around here? When you’re not lightkeeping, I mean.”

“Read.”

“…Is that it?”

“Also clean. But I suppose I don’t do that for fun, per se.”

“No, seriously. Is that _it_?”

Goro took a long sip. It was truly an excellent cup of coffee. Good for Ren that it was, for it was quickly panning out to be the sole justification for his existence. “That’s it.”

“Man.” He lifted his mug to stare into it. “That’s sad.”

The way he said that nettled him, but also jostled old memories loose. “I should have a deck of cards and a few old board games in storage, too. I rarely bring them out since it’s not much fun, playing against oneself.”

Ren brightened. “Well, you’ve got someone to play against now.”

Goro took another sip to hide his smile. “I suppose.”

“How about fishing? Do you have a rod?”

“Well--yes. I have to fish if I don’t want to rely on the monthly shipment for all my food.”

“Excellent!” He whirled about and gestured grandly at the interior with his free arm. “You know, painting a mural on the walls would _really_ liven it up in here. I have a friend in my crew who’s crazy about stuff like that. When my ship comes to pick me up, I’ll ask him to give you some paints.”

Goro laughed a short, gruff laugh of disbelief. “When _your_ ship comes to pick you up? From a rumored-to-be-haunted lighthouse?”

He leaned on the counter and winked. “We’re a more daring crew than most.”

“And how are you going to signal to them?”

He raised his mug to the ceiling. “This is a lighthouse, isn’t it? You can send transmissions, can’t you? At worse, you’ve got a big old light to send messages with.”

Goro’s smile flickered away. His chest squeezed tight with dread. “…Yes. True. I suppose that’s… doable.”

“So once dark falls, I’ll start sending a message,” Ren continued with undaunted optimism. “Sooner or later they’ll spot it and come by. Boom! Problem solved.”

He took another sip to not have to say anything. Problem solved indeed, except for a very different problem. But then, would he have been able to avoid it? The lighthouse was tall but not very big. Ren had already proved himself a curious sort, and Goro had no way of stopping him from going where he pleased. Sooner or later, he would head upstairs and see what the problem was.

And then he’d leave. But he intended on leaving all the same, didn’t he? By Goro’s own admission, there was little to do here for entertainment. Even without the sordid truth, of course Ren would would want to leave sooner rather than later if he had the choice. It was Goro’s own fault for not thinking of it first thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Unless there’s an issue with that?” Ren added, eyes on him.

“No. It’s… feasible,” he said with some difficulty. He shook his head and flipped his hair to reset his state of mind. Better to emotionally distance himself. The inevitable disgust and departure would hurt less that way. “And from a practical standpoint, it’s better for me if you leave right away.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I told you, shipments only come once a month. Shipments for one,” he added pointedly. “I don’t have enough food to feed both of us for a whole month.”

Ren’s expression went blank. “…Oh.”

“So it’s better for both of us if you leave as soon as possible,” Goro concluded, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Oh. I guess so.”

Now why did he have to sound so disappointed?! He was the one who brought up signaling to his crew!

“But my ship can compensate you once it shows up, so it’ll be okay,” Ren added brightly.

“For approximately two weeks, perhaps.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “That’ll be plenty of time!”

“What if your crew isn’t looking for you?”

“Impossible. They love me. They’ll be scouring the area for any sign of me.”

“Even if they think your corpse sank to the bottom of the sea?”

“They’re still emotionally obligated to _try_. And when they see the signal, they’ll come investigate and see I’m alive after all.”

Goro sighed. “You sound very confident.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I said! Because they love me.” His expression gentled. “And I love them.”

Goro stared at him.

“So I have faith that they won’t give up on me that easily,” he concluded. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”

Envy wormed and writhed up into Goro’s heart. He forced a smile. “It must be nice, to be so… beloved, by so many.”

“It is,” he agreed warmly. “Maybe when they arrive, you could come with us?”

“I--can’t,” he said with renewed difficulty. “I’m the lightkeeper. You know that.”

Ren’s gaze flicked to the chain that sprawled along the floor and up the stairs, out of view. “Right.” A pause. Then he met Goro’s gaze. “Then how about we come to visit you? We’ll have rousing parties every night with food and drink and loud music, and everyone’ll help you paint your mural until this dump is bursting with color!”

Goro’s forced smile turned extra awkward as he tried to think of how to explain why that, too, was impossible.

“And we’ll bring you new boo-ooks,” he sing-sang.

That one made Goro laugh. “That _would_ be nice.”

Ren grinned with apparent pleasure for some reason. What an odd man. “Then in the meantime, how ‘bout you show me around the place?”

And there it was. Best to get it over with. “There isn’t really much to see… but I suppose.”

They finished off their coffee, Goro with some regret. Once the mugs were taken care of, he gestured for Ren to follow him, then led him downstairs.

“This is where I do laundry and keep food I’m not about to eat in storage,” he explained, gesturing forward at the floor below. Ren wandered around; light spilled in from a sole window over the washer/dryer. “There’s also a supply closet for cleaning materials, and a few chests for general storage. Those cards and games I mentioned to you ought to be in one of them.”

Ren peeked through the freezer storage door window. “Is it just me, or is it extremely _cold_ in there?”

“It’s a freezer,” Goro said simply. “Insulated, waterproof and airproof. Not a place you want to lock yourself into by accident.”

Ren eased away from the door. “Definitely not.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry; I’m joking. The door doesn’t actually lock. There’s no need, since I’m the only one here.”

“Makes sense.”

They descended further. Goro gestured to the apparatuses therein. “The twin filtering systems,” he explained. “One is essentially a septic tank, to deal with… water-borne refuse, before flushing it out to sea.”

“Gross.”

“The other,” Goro continued, deciding to ignore that remark, “is a water filtration system. The supply ship fills up the fresh water tanks when it arrives, but there’s a filtration system to convert rainwater and top off the tanks as needed. Clean water is thus usually not an issue, especially during the rainy season, but I generally err towards conserving water. Just in case.”

“Good to know.”

They descended to ground floor. “That’s the generator. It generates power,” he explained, rather unnecessarily, as he gestured to the massive device. The chain that climbed from his ankle and up the stairs all the way to the top floor snaked down around the support pillar to terminate--or rather, originate--from said device. Transparent panels into the murky interior betrayed hints of movement within. “I wouldn’t be able to do anything without it.”

Ren stared at it, a strange look on his face. “It gives me the creeps.”

 _Of course it does._ “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

Goro unlocked and opened the door. Ren followed him out to the railed balcony, stopping only to glance at the fishing rod leaning near the doorway. Outside, well, it was water, water, everywhere. Ren circled around, and Goro let him. He’d see that while there was a spot for a rowboat to moor and a ladder leading down to the water, there was no actual boat to take. He returned soon.

“What do you do in case of emergencies?” Ren wondered.

Goro shrugged. “I make do.”

Ren stared at him in open disbelief. Fortunately, he didn’t press further.

On the way back up, Ren swung over to the storage chests, popped them open, and rummaged around. “Oh, hey! You’ve got a record player in here! Why don’t you have this upstairs?”

“It’s broken,” Goro explained. “It hasn’t worked in years. I asked several times for someone to repair it, but…” He shrugged. “It’s not a priority.”

This time, he managed to mask the bitterness nicely. He was warming back up to social interaction with every conversation, like remembering how to ride a bicycle. (He thought briefly, longingly, of the last time he’d gone cycling through the city. It had been ages.)

Ren pulled it out anyway. “I’m pretty handy with gadgets. Maybe I can fix it.”

“You’re welcome to try.”

He pulled out several records with it, then went on to locate the cards and board games. Together, they carried everything upstairs. Ren set the record player on the coffee table, and Goro set everything else to the side. The net of various goods included a tool kit; Goro retrieved it for him. Together, they sat on the couch.

“So what’s wrong with it, anyway?” Ren asked as he inspected the player.

“It won’t spin.”

“Oh yeah? Hopefully that won’t be too hard a fix.” With the ease of experience, he partially disassembled the player, using a screwdriver to assist. Eventually, he pulled out a rubber belt, blanched and dry, and looked it over. “Looks like this was the problem; it’s lost its elasticity. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to restore this baby. If we’re not lucky, you’ll need to replace it with a new one.”

Goro doubted he could get a replacement; the player had been donated by someone in Sae’s crew who hadn’t wanted it anymore. That was the case for almost everything he owned that wasn’t strictly practical. “What do you need to restore it?”

“Hmm. D’you have any ammonia? Pure ammonia, not mixed with any detergents?”

He got up. “I should have some in the bathroom.”

“Mix it with some warm water--follow the instructions on the bottle for how much. In the meantime, I’ll clean the dust out of here. D’you have any chamois swabs and ethyl alcohol?”

Goro pointed at the net. “In the first aid kit, over there.”

Ren got up too. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

And so they each handled their respective tasks. It turned out that the first aid kit didn’t have the kind of swabs Ren actually wanted, but he made do. Once Goro mixed the warm water and ammonia, Ren paused in his careful dusting to immerse the belt in the mixture. It would take one or two hours, long enough for the ammonia to evaporate, he explained. Goro nodded and sat with him again as he finished dusting the record player’s interior. While he did, Goro inspected the records for scratches and cracks. He only did it because he had nothing better to do, but Ren had such a strong focus--as he worked, he gave himself over to his task fully. Watching him wasn’t dull at all.

Eventually it was time for the rubber belt. Ren dried it carefully, then reassembled the record player. Once he was done, he plugged it in. The player came to life, which was a good sign. Ren set down a record on top, and with tense anticipation, set the needle on its edge. As they both leaned in to watch, the record spun to life with a crackle, and music poured like honey from the speakers.

Forgetting himself, Goro effused, “You did it!”

“ _We_ did it,” Ren enthused back, holding his hands up for a double high-five. Goro reciprocated, and felt warm inside.

He felt even warmer when Ren grinned that extra-devilish grin of his and pulled him by the hands to his feet. “May I have this dance~?”

“Oh--you--you’re incorrigible,” Goro flustered.

Ren pulled him heart-poundingly close. “Is that a yes?”

He should have pulled back. He should have told him, _I_ _don’t know how to dance._ It was even the truth. But standing there, chest to chest with him, he didn’t ever want to pull away. “I’ll indulge you, just this once,” he whispered.

Ren’s smile turned knowing, and he guided him into a waltz.

It was more enjoyable than Goro could have anticipated. With Ren leading, all he had to do was mimic his footwork and not step on or trip over him or his chain. His background in swordsmanship came to his rescue; fighting and dancing had some similarities. Before long, he found himself laughing and swirling with Ren along the wooden floor with a minimum of missteps.

Far too soon, the song ended. So too did the dance. They each stood together, nearly eye level, smiling as they each caught their breath. Goro knew he needed to pull away, but he was loath to initiate it. It had been ages since he’d been so close for so long to another human being. He didn’t want to let go.

The next song started. Ren bumped his forehead on Goro’s, ever so gently. “Again?”

Goro hesitated; then he made his choice. “All right.”

They went around again. Again and again, they went around. Eventually, Goro needed to rest, and they collapsed together to sit on the bed. Their heavy, panting breaths intermingled.

Then Ren wrapped his hand around Goro’s and leaned in just a bit. Teasingly. Testingly? His eyes sought Goro’s, as if asking silently for permission.

Goro froze up. _He wants to kiss me,_ he realized, and his heart raced in desire and panic. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to be kissed so badly it hurt. Yet… That hurt echoed above and below with the fragments of his soul, and reverberated back into him with the tones of hopelessness and guilt.

Ren only wanted to kiss him because he didn’t know the truth.

When Ren leaned in a little closer, Goro edged away.

Ren blinked twice. However, he let him go and leaned back. He looked down and pulled his hand away. Goro did the same, aching the whole while.

“Your friends. On your ship,” Goro murmured, averting his eyes as he pushed his hair back. “What are they like?”

“Oh. Uh…” He walked over to the record player. With care, he turned it off. “They’re good. Good friends.” A beat. “Where do you want me to put this? It’s a little in the way, right here.”

Goro waved a hand. “Anywhere is fine. Over there.” He pointed. “That cabinet has a socket nearby. The cord--the cord should reach.”

“Okay.”

As Ren set the record player up in its new spot, Goro cleared his throat. “Do you have anyone… special, anywhere?”

He shot him an incredulous look for some reason. “No. I’m single.”

“Oh. I see.” He fussed with his hair again. “That makes sense. You seem like the type who’s loathe to get tied down.” He affected a breezy laugh. “But I bet you’ve left a string of broken hearts in your wake.”

Ren’s expression clouded. “…You think so?”

“You seem like the type,” he repeated, a little more coldly than he’d intended to.

He stared at his feet. “I guess… you’re not wrong.”

Lunch followed. It was quiet and desperately awkward. After they ate, Ren started yawning every few seconds, and his eyelids couldn’t stay all the way open.

“Wow,” he said, yawning, “all of a sudden,” _yawn_ , “I’m _incredibly_ ti--” _yawwwwn_ , “--red.”

“Understandable,” Goro said, because it was a welcome distraction. “You only just recovered from a near-death experience. You must still need rest. Why don’t you take a nap?”

“Mmkay.” He wobbled to his feet and plodded to the couch.

Goro hurried over and redirected him. “The bed is _this_ way.”

Even half-asleep, Ren smiled at him. “But where will you sleep?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Do you think just because there’s only one bed, we would have to share it? Anyway, I don’t need rest right now.”

“Too bad.”

Goro all but shoved him into bed. “Take all the time you--” he began to say, before he realized that Ren had already conked out.

He tucked him in, then knelt down by the bed to watch him. Ren must have hit zero energy very abruptly indeed. Goro stroked his face and hair softly. Then he rose to his feet. This was good timing; he still needed to attend to his daily chores. Normally he would have finished them all by now, but Ren was so… very… distracting.

After his chores, Goro ended up taking a nap of his own after all. In retrospect, he’d been up late reading even before Ren had crashed into his life, and yesterday he’d been all keyed up. He did _not_ crawl into bed with him. Even now, he still had some self-respect left.


	4. The Exiled Prince

Goro woke up to the smell of fragrant rice and spices. Blinking sleepily, he looked up from the couch to see the bed empty and the kitchen full. He ambled over to find Ren stirring the simmering contents of his biggest pot while the rice cooker bubbled.

“Morning! Or afternoon, by now,” Ren chirped. “I hope you like curry.”

He rubbed his eyes. “I do.”

“Great! Because it’s my specialty.”

It certainly smelled amazing. Goro was a mediocre cook at best; he tended towards simple dishes like sandwiches and soup. Salt and pepper saw fairly regular use, but any spices more unique sat collecting dust in his cupboard because he had no idea what to do with them.

“Sorry for not asking what you wanted for your birthday dinner,” Ren continued, “but you looked so angelic sleeping on the couch, I couldn’t stand to wake you.”

“Do you do that all the time?”

“Do what all the time?”

“Shower people with insincere compliments.”

Ren gaped at him, clutching his chest in an affectation of shock. “I would never! I only give compliments I 100% mean.”

Goro shook his head. “And yet you still sound insincere.”

Ren tilted his head, expression thoughtful. “Hmmm. I’m beginning to understand the cause of our communication breakdowns.” A beat. “Can’t I just say nice things about you because I like saying nice things that’re also true?”

Goro blinked rapidly. He eased back a half-step and brushed his hair back, self-conscious. “It’s… a little overwhelming.”

“Ah.” He chuckled ruefully. “I do tend to get dramatic, yeah. But I promise, I say and do it all with affection.” His smile warmed. “I owe you my life, after all.”

So he said, but he was still going to leave in the end. Talk like that just… hurt. “Mm.”

“And besides, it’s your birthday! Or close enough. A man ought to be treated like a prince on his birthday.” He swooped an arm around in an ostentatious bow, then followed it up by taking Goro’s hand into his own and sinking gracefully to one knee. “Your Highness,” he uttered with solemn gravity that was utterly undermined by a cheeky wink.

And that hurt even more, but to Goro’s surprise, it hurt in a good way. He smiled. “Fine,” he relented. “Just don’t go overboard.”

“Going overboard is what brought me here to you, though!”

He choked, then laughed. “Is that how you talk about how you almost _died_?”

Without breaking eye contact, Ren pressed his lips to the backs of Goro’s fingers. “If I died, then I went straight to Heaven.”

How could he say such embarrassing things with a straight face? (How could getting embarrassed by them still feel good?) “This is exactly the thing I’m talking about!” he protested heatedly nonetheless. “How can I believe you when you say things like that so easily?”

He grinned broadly. “Then don’t believe me! Flirt right back, and we’ll make a game of it.”

Goro flinched his hand away. “I…” And now it was back to hurting the regular way.

Ren’s grin faded. He rose to his feet and shrugged. “Or not,” he added, nonchalant. “We can take it easy and have fun either way. Right?”

 _Flirt right back, and we’ll make a game of it._ Back when he was a teenager, high and mighty on his own power, Goro had leaped at the chance to play emotional chess with an alluring stranger--one who even looked sort of like Ren, it dawned on him, though their personalities were wildly different. Sure, it hadn’t consisted of outright flirting back then, but the attraction had still been there. He’d played it cool on the surface while hungering underneath for a chance to prove himself and come out on top--to dominate, to seize control… to, ultimately, destroy. Now the idea left him feeling empty and sick. _Flirt right back, and we’ll make a game of it._ How could anyone say that seriously?

But… The tension eased out of his shoulders. Goro nodded a little. As Ren had said earlier, he was starting to understand why they were having issues communicating.

“How about we, ah… play a normal game? Chess, perhaps,” he offered. “You should be able to do that while tending the stove.”

Ren graced him with another broad smile. “Sure, I’d love that!”

Goro wondered how many people he’d seduced with that smile. He smiled back anyway. After fetching the chess set, they set up each side (Goro on white, Ren on black) and played a few rounds. Goro won the first two; Ren surprised him with an unexpectedly deft maneuver on the third to eke out a win; then Goro won the fourth again, but it was a genuine struggle. Ren improved with every game. Perhaps it was a cheap thrill compared to the stakes of the old days, but it thrilled Goro nonetheless.

Ren served up pork curry with rice, and the two of them clinked glasses of water before digging in. The pork practically fell apart on the fork, the vegetables were fluffy and hot, and the spices created a symphony of flavor without too much heat. Delicious. Though perhaps the best spice was company? Now that they were getting used to each other, Goro smiled and laughed more easily. He knew he shouldn’t. But now he was starting to think he should cling to what he had while he still had it.

Soon enough, he cleaned his plate. “Were you the cook on your ship?” Goro wondered, holding his dish out for seconds.

Ren served him up a modest portion. “Nah. I just cook as a hobby. I like making the people I like happy.”

“What a social butterfly,” he said with wry humor.

“I do love butterflies,” Ren said brightly, giving himself seconds too.

“So what _was_ your position?”

Ren paused. Then he leaned a hand on his chin and grinned at him. “Guess.”

His eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“I happened to notice your biggest, shiniest, newest book is a mystery. Let’s see if you can solve this one, detective.”

Goro flinched.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Ren added, wicked humor abating.

“No, no--no, I’ll guess,” he said, at first shakily, then firm. It might be only a chintzy mystery, but his pride stirred from its long slumber and demanded he solve it.

God. Why did this man keep reminding him of the past? He shook his head and compartmentalized. _Focus._

First, he considered Ren’s skills. He already knew he wasn’t the cook, even though he _could_ cook, and cook well. He had a hunch that the same applied for his handyman abilities. Ren struck him as a jack of all trades, someone who filled in for and supported others. Perhaps he was a literal jack of all trades? It made sense. But no, it didn’t feel quite right. Whether one could call it obnoxiousness or charisma was up to debate, but Ren’s cheek tended to come with concern for the other person. On top of that, he had a larger-than-life presence, something that drew the eye. He also had a deep affection for his crew and confidence it was returned; he’d fallen overboard in the first place because he’d rescued someone else from that fate. And he’d always referred to them as _his_ crew, _his_ ship…

“Are you the captain?” Goro wondered.

Ren lit up with delight and clapped. “Bravo! Got it in one! Well, two, really, if you count that guess from before. But still!”

Goro smiled and sat up a little straighter. His skills hadn’t rusted entirely away, it seemed. “It was nothing, really. I just happened to remember some of your little comments.”

“Good work anyway. Hats off to you.” Ren mimed doffing a hat and bowing with it.

Goro laughed. This man, honestly… He could probably charm his way into anything. Or maybe Goro’s standards were just abysmally low. Maybe it was some of both. “No wonder you say your crew loves you. I’m sure they’ll come find you in a hurry.”

He looked up at the ceiling. “That reminds me--when’re you taking me to see the upstairs?”

Goro’s humor blinked out like a busted filament. “…At twilight,” he decided. “When the light comes on. Your crew will see your signal better that way.”

Ren nodded. Then he looked at the pot. “How about we save the rest of this for tomorrow? Curry always tastes better the next day.”

Goro nodded.

So Ren replaced the lid and lowered the heat to let it stay warm overnight. Then, without Goro asking him to, he took the dirty dishes and washed them.

“You’re an unusual captain,” Goro noted.

“What, because I don’t let everyone else clean up my messes?”

“I wouldn’t put it like _that_ , but generally speaking, a captain has bigger things to worry about than dirty dishes.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do them once in a while.”

Goro leaned his cheek on one hand. “What _are_ your friends like? You sort of skimmed over it, before. You must treasure them a lot if you gambled your life to save one of them.”

Ren smiled, this time with tenderness, and launched into an explanation. Goro listened closely.

His first mate, Ryuji, was a salty, rough-and-tumble dog with a heart of gold. His second-in-command (Goro wondered how that was different from first mate), Makoto, was a tough, serious woman who masterminded their battle strategies, assisted by Hifumi (whom Ren had nearly died to save), a tactical genius with a flair for the dramatic. Second mate Ann was the heart of the crew, always vivacious and undaunted, and her sweetly sarcastic best friend Shiho worked as the chief steward. Yusuke was that art-lover friend he’d mentioned earlier, and a passionate and absolute weirdo (said Ren with great affection); he and Haru, a refined and mischievous noblewoman who’d taken to the open seas like a dolphin, appraised and priced their goods, respectively.

Chief engineer was eccentric genius Futaba, who had never met a piece of machinery she couldn’t take apart and built back up better than before. She dealt with the radars, while the physical lookout who practically lived in the crow’s nest was the bold and graceful Kasumi. The _actual_ chief cook was ‘The Boss’ (“Sorry, I mean Sojiro,” Ren corrected himself), a cranky but caring and stylish middle-aged man who’d apparently taught Ren everything he knew about the culinary and romantic arts. Shinya was young but cool and level-headed and an _extremely_ good gunner, thanks to the tutelage of gruff and tough senior gunner Iwai.

Humble and diligent Yoshida ran the landside information network that supported Ren’s seaside business; anxious but well-meaning Mishima apprenticed under him. Both of them worked closely with the goofy and relentless communications officer, Ohya. Dr. Takemi, unflappable and brilliant, was the ship’s surgeon; clumsy but kind Rev. Maruki was the chaplain; insightful and persistent Chihaya was the navigator; chronically fatigued Ms. Kawakami, who had long since run out of fucks, was the purser. Apparently everyone helped out as needed, but those were their main roles.

And then, last but not least, Morgana, as a veteran seaman, gave general advice to the captain. He was also, according to Ren, a talking cat.

“That’s a new one,” Goro remarked. “Usually the captain has a talking parrot.”

“I’m serious,” Ren insisted. “He is an actual, living, breathing, honest-to-god talking cat.”

“A demon cat?” he wondered, dubious.

“No, no, he’s human, but he was cursed into the form of a cat. Or so he says.”

Goro thought it likelier it was a rogue demon pulling a scam. Then again, rogue demons weren’t common either, as they soon became subjugated or exorcised. He supposed Ren would know best about this Morgana. “So while you’re missing, I suppose… Ryuji will be acting captain in your place?”

“Ryuji? Nah. He’s support through and through. He’ll always be first mate. Makoto’s who you’re looking for. She doesn’t have much in the way of people skills, but she’s got a sharp mind and first-rate decision-making skills. In an emergency, she steps up for me, and Ryuji and Ann support her.”

“Ah. Thus second-in-command.” He thought briefly of Sae’s sister Makoto. It sounded like all she shared in common with Ren’s Makoto was a name and a lack of charisma. “And she’ll lead this daring crew of yours to the haunted lighthouse to come rescue you. Is that it?”

“Weeeell…” Ren scratched his head. “Now that you put it like that… Makoto’s scared of ghosts, so she might need some pushing?”

Goro had to laugh. “Are you serious? Who’s going to push her, then?”

“Hmm… Ryuji’s… also scared of ghosts… so is Ann… Hm. I begin to see a problem.”

“Oh my _god_ , Ren.”

“Oh, but Haru loves ghost stories! And Futaba can’t resist a mystery. And you know what they say about curiosity and cats,” he said brightly. “So I’m sure it’ll work out in the end!”

Goro shook his head. “Your optimism blinds me.”

“Not optimism! _Faith_.”

“In the power of friendship?” he suggested, dry as a desert.

“That’s it exactly.”

Goro palmed his forehead.

“Can I ask you something?” Ren added.

He looked up. “What’s that?”

“ _Is_ this place haunted?”

He snorted. “Don’t tell me _you’re_ afraid of ghosts, too.”

“Nah.” Ren didn’t sound the slightest bit defensive, so he probably meant it. “But the story of the Exiled Prince is famous. I guess I’m asking if it’s true.”

“What do you think?”

He scratched his head. “I guess if it _were_ haunted, you would’ve been straight-up about it. ‘Mind the vengeful Prince’s ghost’ or something.” Thoughtful, he moved his hand to his chin. “And if there _were_ a murderous spirit, it probably would’ve gotten you by now, too, come to think.”

“A murderous spirit, huh?” Goro leaned on his hand. “Out of curiosity, how do you think the tale goes?”

“What, you don’t know it?”

“I know it, all right. But rumors have a way of taking on a life of their own.”

“True.” Ren tucked his hands in his pocket. “At the start of the current era, when Emperor Shido won the war and seized the throne, one of his trusted warriors rebelled and challenged him to a deathmatch. Supposedly he declared he was Shido’s son and, by right of blood and conquest, would take the throne for himself. But Shido easily defeated him and cut him down.” He scowled. “He declared he’d make an example of the traitor and had the Exile’s Lighthouse built, using his own son’s corpse as part of the foundation. Ever since, the Exiled Prince has possessed the lighthouse, searing through the darkness with its light in search of his father to wreak his revenge.” He lowered his voice to something approximating spooky and wiggled his fingers. “They say if you look into the searchlight, the Exiled Prince will mistake you for his father and sink your ship…! _Woooooo_.”

Goro laughed humorlessly. “Is that what they’re saying? How stupid.”

Ren returned to what passed for his normal. “Well, if you’re so smart, how’s it _actually_ go?”

“There simply isn’t a ghost or a corpse. At all. Think it through rationally: if there were bones mixed into the foundation, why is it the _Exile’s_ Lighthouse and not the _Executed’s_ Lighthouse?”

“Uhhh…”

“In truth, if you check the public records, you’ll find the lighthouse’s construction had been about 99% complete by the time that business went down. What’s more, it’s built in the middle of the sea atop a solid steel rig. Where, in what part of the foundation, do you think any bones could have even been used?”

“Maybe they ground them up and mixed them with the cement?”

Goro scoffed. “They didn’t. I assure you. And finally, there was no challenge and certainly no deathmatch. The would-be Prince was captured and sentenced to death before he could even try to instigate a rebellion.”

Ren’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait. That part doesn’t make sense. If he didn’t do anything, what did he get punished for?”

Goro gave him a thin smile. “He intended to rebel, for the reason you said. But His Majesty caught him first and took… decisive action.”

“…I see.” Ren absorbed this. Then he frowned at Goro. “So where do you fit into all of this?”

He startled. “Me?”

“Yeah. You’re the keeper of a lighthouse with a dire reputation. Why do you have the job?”

“I… I’m just…” He looked away. “…Someone has to do it.”

Ren didn’t stop frowning. “And that someone just happened to be you?”

“Yes.”

When Goro offered nothing else, Ren huffed out a sigh. “All right, fine. May I at least ask how long you’ve been here?”

“Come January, it will be seven years.”

Ren choked. “Seven _years_?! That’s nearly all of the current era! And you only get company once a month?!” He shook his head. “I could never do that. I’d go insane first. How do you manage?”

Goro plastered on a polite smile like Sae’s crew had plastered over the scratches he’d left gouged in the walls in his early years. “I’ve gotten used it, is all.”

Ren gave him a dubious look. “And… how long are you gonna be here?”

Goro’s smile tightened. “I’m told at ten years, I may be eligible to leave.”

Something in Ren’s expression changed. Maybe realization; maybe pity; either way, Goro hated it. Then Ren folded his arms behind his head and half-turned. “Ten years, huh… You’ve got some endurance.”

“Mm.”

“How old are you, anyway, belated birthday boy?”

Goro scoffed, but he relaxed, too. “I’m twenty-five now.”

“Twenty-five, huh?” Ren crooked a lopsided grin at him. “I’ll be twenty-four this fall.”

“Hmm.” He smiled a little back. “I thought we might be about the same age. You’re quite young to be a captain, though.”

Ren spun around. “I’m a self-starter! I lead the way, and my people follow.” His expression gentled. “Maybe, once your term is up, I can snatch you up for my crew. Show you the sights you couldn’t see while you were stuck here.”

“I’d like that,” he conceded, wistful. He could be at least that honest. “But you shouldn’t make offers like that to someone you barely know.”

“I know you saved my life.”

Goro looked away again.

“And I know,” Ren added quietly as he drew closer, “you don’t have to know someone that well or that long to know you want to be their friend.”

Goro shot him a wide-eyed stare.

Ren gave him a soft, gentle smile. He truly was an angel and a devil in one. “What do you think?”

Goro smiled back, cold and mechanical. “I think,” he murmured heavily, “it’s time to show you the light.”


	5. The Light

Ignoring Ren’s confused look, Goro plodded upstairs, gathering up his chain as he went. The usual pain had surged through him during Ren’s stories, so even without the dimming of daylight, he would have known the lighthouse lantern had come on. Ren followed him, asking meaningless questions. Goro reached the top floor and moved out of the way so Ren could see for himself.

When he did, Ren froze. He clutched the top of the stairway railing, knuckles no doubt white under his red gloves, as his expression transmogrified into what could only be described as horror. Goro watched him with dull patience. Then he stepped over to the lantern and gazed up at it.

The great crystalline orb trapped within itself a giant, muscular, broad-shouldered man--or more accurately, an entity with the appearance of a man. The entity barely fit within, folded in on himself like a fetus. As if to ensure he remained still, metallic spikes drove through the crystal into him at eight different points, four above, four below, at each cardinal direction. These spikes also created a shutter effect over the crystal to darken it on every side but the face. The entity’s mouth opened wide in an eternal soundless scream, and his expression was distorted with agony. His entire body radiated brilliant light, brighter and stronger and more consistent than any machine. The shuttering ensured it was concentrated in a single direction; the orb rotated to send it streaming for miles in all directions.

“My Persona. The would-be ‘ghost,’” Goro said tonelessly, gesturing a hand at him as if in casual introduction. He turned to Ren, who now gaped at him, and gave him a tight, bitter smile. “Oh? Have you never met a Persona User before? I quite understand. Even before the current Emperor conquered the country, we were a rare breed. Quite dangerous, with our ‘demons’ that can’t be controlled or dismissed by another.” He folded his arms tight; kept his back ramrod straight. “Robin Hood commands arrows of light. This was deemed a useful ability, so I was spared execution. In exchange, Robin Hood and I were bound to this lighthouse.”

Goro shook his left foot at Ren, just to make his chain jangle. Ren stared down at it, then up at Robin Hood, then back at Goro, lips curling. He’d anticipated that look, but it hurt anyway. It made him want to hurt him back.

“Aren’t you grateful?” Goro thus spat. “The murderous spirit has already been cuffed and contained. Until your beloved crew dashes to your rescue, you’ll be _perfectly safe_.”

Ren let go of the railing and clenched both hands into fists. “That’s why you’re imprisoned here? Because you’re a Persona User?” he growled.

Goro kept his posture self-possessed and said nothing.

Then, to his absolute shock, blue flames flared in the form of a mask over Ren’s face. He tore it off in one smooth, swift motion and snarled, “ARSÈNE!!”

Above and behind him materialized another man-shaped entity, long and thin in a top hat and a long black coat with feathery black wings. It--he--spread his arms and wings wide, and a powerful darkness whorled into existence between them as Ren swung a decisive finger towards the crystal orb.

“Smash that lantern wide open!” he commanded, posture bleeding violent fury.

The entity--the _Persona, Ars_ _è_ _ne_ \--raised his arms and his spell to obey. Goro’s pretense at composure shattered in an instant, and in terror, he hurled himself at Ren hands-first. Ren caught him, fury swept away by the winds of surprise; above him, Arsène paused his attack.

“ _Don’t_!” Goro cried, eyes wide and desperate. “Please! You mustn’t!”

“What the hell? Why not?” Ren demanded, clutching his hands. “That’s your other self in there! How can you tolerate this? This is--an abomination!!”

“I know! _I know_. And I’m happy you’re outraged for me--I truly am--but please…” All the strength drained from Goro’s body. His head sank down to Ren’s shoulder. “…please… don’t.”

Ren was silent. Arsène was silent. Then, at last, Arsène vanished into a cloud of flickering blue flame. Slowly, Ren slipped his hands out of Goro’s and eased away from him. Without his support, Goro drifted down to his knees. Ren gazed down at him, expression inscrutable.

“Why did you stop me?” he murmured.

Goro had heard that sometimes, Personas could repeat across individuals. Back in the day, his little list included two different men whose primary Persona was Hermes. His research indicated that Loki was even a regular sight in the collective unconsciousness—not shocking, from an extremely well-known and popular god. But encountering another Arsène, here and now… Was it fate? Was it sheer mad coincidence? Either way, it couldn’t be the same User. It _couldn’t_ , because…

“Because…” Goro curled his fingers in until his nails dug into his palms. “Because this is my rightful punishment.”

Heated, Ren began, “There’s nothing wrong with being a Persona User. A good chunk of my crew are--”

“No.” Goro cut him off with a sharp, jerky shake of the head, auburn hair flying in its wake. “It’s not for that. It’s because…” He grit his teeth. Then, like spraying vomit, he blurted out, “Ren, I’m a murderer. A _m_ _ass_ murderer. I was imprisoned here to pay off my debt to society with my Personas and to keep me from ever hurting anyone else, ever again.” His vision blurred; he struggled not to let his voice crack. “They say I might be eligible for parole at the end of ten years if I behave and do a good enough job, but I’m not stupid. I know that’s just a carrot they’re dangling in front of me to keep me in line. They’d never let scum like me go. I’m here for life.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Ren turned and strode down the spiral stairs.

Goro dried his face on his sleeves. Once he had himself under better control, he got up and made himself follow. There wasn’t anywhere Ren to escape to, but if he’d gone to grab a weapon and stab him to death…

 _If he has, so what? Wouldn’t it be better to finally get it all over with instead of rotting here forever?_ a part of him whispered.

Goro had such thoughts every so often. A twisted bit of hope stirred. His feet moved a little faster.

But Ren hadn’t run to the kitchen to grab a knife. He was nowhere in the living quarters. When Goro heard a violent curse from below, he realized he’d gone all the way down to the generator.

He nearly tripped over himself and broke his neck racing down there. However, while Ren was banging a fist on the device, he hadn’t summoned his Persona to try to destroy it. Small mercies.

Teeth bared in anger, Ren whirled on Goro. “There’s a Persona in here too. I can’t see it but I know it’s in here. Whose are they?” he demanded.

“Also mine,” Goro said quietly.

Ren’s dark eyes widened. “A Wild Card,” he whispered.

He nodded once. “When I was sentenced, I almost faced execution, because I was deemed too dangerous. One Persona is bad enough, but a multitude?” He shook his head. “Ironically, it’s for the same reason that I was ultimately brought here.” He waved a weak hand at the generator. “Loki to provide power. Robin Hood to bring light. And an isolated prison, far, far away from polite society. What more convenient punishment could there be?”

Ren glared at the generator. Then he marched up to Goro and grabbed him by the arms. “Who did this to you?” he growled. “I’ll find them and I’ll put a stop to this.”

A wistful smile flashed across Goro’s lips, there and gone like a falling star. He remembered when he had that same defiant rage. “His Imperial Majesty, Shido Masayoshi I.”

Ren stared at him.

“I’m his son, you see. An unwanted bastard child,” he continued, toneless. It was better this way. He’d indulged long enough. “A long time ago, he toyed around with my mother. When she gave birth to me, he abandoned us both. Later, once I’d gained acclaim of my own, I approached him as if we had no relation and offered him my strength. He accepted and used me as he pleased. I fought for him--killed for him--in the hopes of gaining his trust.” His face and voice hardened. “So I could take revenge.

“My very existence was a scandal waiting to happen. I’d planned to reveal the truth to him at the height of his power, then control him from the shadows with the threat of taking it public.” He slumped. “But he saw through me. He’d known who I was from nearly the start. So when he took the throne, before I could betray him, my father betrayed me.”

“You’re the Exiled Prince,” Ren whispered.

He nodded once. “He canceled my hanging at the last second to decree maintaining this lighthouse would be my punishment instead. Then he had my Personas sealed in the generator and the lantern, and my physical body chained to the structure. I’ve been here ever since.”

Ren let go of him and rocked back a step, shock apparent in his face. It soon twisted instead with anger and revulsion. But rather than directing it at Goro-- “Fuck that guy. I hate him,” he swore. “He’s nothing more than a warlord and a tyrant.”

Damn it. Why did Ren have to grow more attractive with every passing moment? Unfair.

“You do understand this is my sentence for mass murder, correct?” Goro pointed out, just in case.

“Yeah, I heard you.”

“And… you’re okay with that?”

That got his anger to cool. “I’m not… _okay_ with it,” Ren admitted. “But I can tell it’s something that weighs on you. Something you regret. So I doubt you’ll do it again.”

Goro chuckled. It soon corrupted into manic, outright laughter, and from there, sobs of despair. He covered his face with both hands. “Of course I won’t do it again! I’m in prison for life!!”

“Not for long you won’t.” Ren grasped Goro’s arms, startling his hands from his face like little birds. “I’m gonna bust you out of here.”

It sounded like a wild fantasy. It _was_ a wild fantasy. But something about the absolute surety in Ren’s voice, in his eyes… Abruptly, Goro understood how this flirt-crazy youth could be a captain. He made one want to follow him.

“How are you going to manage that?” he protested all the same. He needed to know.

“I don’t know,” was his initial, disappointing answer. “But I’m going to figure it out.”

Goro’s lips pursed. He wanted to believe him. But the scales of his heart swayed, tipping one way, then the other…

Perhaps Ren saw the doubt in his face, because he smiled and slid his hands down to clasp Goro’s. “How about we go back up and talk it over?”

An involuntary shiver coursed over Goro’s skin. “Okay,” he breathed, and let Ren lead him upstairs.

At first, he thought they’d head all the way to the top so Ren could start signaling to his crew while they talked. Instead, he brought Goro to the couch and sat, then looked up at him expectantly. Goro sat on the other end, legs together, hands firmly on his lap, plenty of space left between them.

There they remained in silence for some time. For that, Goro was grateful. He’d experienced some major emotional upheaval in the last ten minutes, and he needed some time to sort through… everything, really, before he was ready to have a conversation about it. Maybe Ren was the same way. When he stole glances at him, he saw Ren watching him with unwavering eyes, his expression unusually serious. He wondered if this was Ren’s true self at base, when he wasn’t making a show of himself for his audience.

At length, Goro murmured, “Ren?”

“Mhm?”

“How did you awaken to your Persona?”

“Ah…” He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “There was this scummy corrupt magistrate, and Ryuji and I got on the wrong side of his guards. He ordered them to beat us to death, and since Ryuji and this asshole already had a history, he had them start with him.” Ren’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. “Just remembering it pisses me off. There was this whole--thing, that’d happened to me before then, and--being forced to watch them hurt my friend, brought it all back, and--” He gestured vaguely in the air. “Long story short, I got so angry a Persona popped out of me.”

Though there was nothing funny about the story, Goro snorted out a laugh. “Personas don’t just ‘pop out of you,’ honestly.”

And though there was nothing funny about the story, Ren grinned. “Well, you’ve got a Persona or two of your own. You know what it feels like to awaken to it.”

He gave him a wry half-smile. “I suppose I do at that.”

His grin faded. “So… what about you?”

Goro stared down at his lap. It had been a long time since he’d thought about it. “I mentioned that I gained my own acclaim before I approached the Emperor, back when he was a shogun. That was as a detective.”

“A detective?” he echoed, scrutinizing his face.

“I don’t look the part, do I?” he said dryly. He dug his nails into his palms. “You aren’t the only one who’s thought so. No one took me seriously at first. I was only a boy; I had… little success. But one day, I happened to get involved with a serial murder case. Desperate to prove myself, I outraced the police to the culprit and confronted him alone.” His lips thinned into a humorless smile. “It turns out, facing a serial killer without back-up isn’t wise.”

He sucked in a small breath, paused; then he shook his head. “That man stabbed me, then prepared to silence me permanently. In that instant, I felt a powerful-- _anger_. I hadn’t accomplished anything yet. I hated that this, this _criminal_ ,” he spat, “would walk free, unpunished for his crime, just like my father. I hated that I was about to die still a child, unwanted by anyone, without bringing him to justice. It all rushed to the forefront just as that man was about to finish me off, and my Persona tore out of me.” He paused. “…And killed him.”

“What happened then?” Ren asked, hushed.

Goro clutched his side. At times like this, he could still feel the ache of that knife as it sliced into him. “The police showed up. My Persona had already vanished by then, of course. I managed to convince them that when I’d confronted the culprit, he went berserk and stabbed me before committing suicide. Some of them probably didn’t believe me, but there was only one weapon, the only fingerprints on it were the culprit’s, and the police are eager to dismiss most criminals as being mentally unstable. On the surface, my story made sense.”

“So you got away with it.”

He took a deep breath; let it out slowly. “Yes. Though the police criticized me for being reckless and failing to capture the culprit properly, the locals celebrated me as a hero. That criminal had terrorized their community, and they were grateful to me for stopping him no matter how I’d done it. I seized the opportunity to gain more of their trust by taking on their cases for free. Catching criminals was easy once I had the power of a Persona.

“My reputation grew. Once it had solidified, I founded my own detective agency and started working with the police.” Goro huffed a faint laugh. “Not that they liked cooperating with an upstart child like me. But at that point, turning me away would have made them look bad. And once I was famous enough that even the shogun had heard of me… Well.” He made a sour face. “I already told you about that part.”

Ren nodded slowly, his expression pensive. If he had any questions, though, he kept them to himself. In fact, he said nothing at all. His silence unnerved Goro.

To fill it, he continued, “Maybe it’s because I became a murderer at the same time I became a Persona User, but it was… surprisingly easy, to become Shido’s professional killer on the side.” He pressed a hand to his face. “So easy, I barely noticed I was tearing myself in two.” He smeared it down his cheek. “My first Persona was Robin Hood. When my victims expanded from criminals to the innocent, Loki emerged. Once I beheld him, I realized I’d passed a point of no return.

“So I doubled down. I convinced myself I was a hero, and those I slayed were villains who deserved their fates.” Goro folded his hands over his mouth and hunched over, elbows on his thighs. “It was my way of protecting myself from my own sins. If I hadn’t done that, I would have had a mental breakdown. I know because I had one later, after I was imprisoned here.”

Ren sat up straight. “Really?”

He gave him another thin, humorless smile. “At least I didn’t hurt anyone but myself. I had plenty of time to process through it, too.”

Ren’s expression shifted in a way Goro hated. “Goro…”

“Don’t,” he said sharply. He clutched his arms. “Don’t pity me. I deserved it. If I’d been executed after all, even at the word of _that man_ , I’d have no grounds to complain.” He looked away, suddenly brimming with shame. “I told you. This is my rightful punishment.”

“No, it’s cruel and unusual,” Ren insisted, now firm, brooking no argument. Goro looked up to see fire in his eyes. “It’d be one thing to lock you up. But to do-- _that_ to your Personas? Turn you into a living battery? And then leave you to suffer all alone on top of that? That’s fucked up.” He reached out. “You don’t deserve that.”

Ren stroked Goro’s face so gently, tears welled up and streaked down his cheeks on their own. Ren began to brush them away, but--

“Don’t,” Goro choked. “You mustn’t be so kind to me. It makes me want to run away with you.”

Ren withdrew his hand, but offered him a lopsided grin. “Sounds good to me. It’ll be much easier to bust you out if you want to leave.”

Goro shook his head. “You don’t understand. I…” He covered his face with one hand again, sure Ren could see his cheeks burning even through it. The thought of trying to not only unravel his tangled feelings, but then _explain_ them to a _human being_ , overwhelmed him to the point he blurted out, “Are you attracted to me?”

Ren reared back, staring.

Mortification stole over Goro. What was he thinking, just coming out and _saying_ that? He would have been far subtler in his youth, far more circumspect, he would have teased the clues out of him one by one until he could deduce with certainty--

And then Ren interrupted his self-flagellation with a warm, broad smile. “Yeah. I am.”

Goro’s entire face, neck, and shoulders seemed to light aflame. He clutched his hands in his lap, now that he had no hope of hiding his embarrassment. “O-oh.”

Ren ran a hand through his hair. “What about you?” he wondered, bearing casual and unconcerned. As if it wouldn’t crush his soul to hear a negative.

“I…” Goro swallowed hard. “I… think I’m attracted to you. But I’m not sure.”

Ren’s smile dimmed. “What do you mean?”

Goro got up and paced a few tight circles to try to work off some of his nerves. It was partially successful. He folded his arms tight to his chest and faced Ren anew. “I’ve been alone my whole life. My mother died when I was very young, so I grew up having to take care of myself. I’ve never had a real friend. Getting locked up here intensified my feelings of isolation by an exponential amount.”

“You’re lonely,” Ren interpreted.

His jaw clenched. “Yes. Incredibly so,” he managed. “So I don’t know. Am I actually attracted to you? Or am I simply--desperate for company?” He drew his arms in closer. “The kinder you are to me, the less I know. And it makes me afraid. You have--” He gestured in frustration at Ren. “A ship. A crew. And to hear you speak of them, they adore you as much as you clearly adore them. Even if I let myself--feel something--for you--I’d just be…” Self-disgust welled up within him. He looked away. “…another face in the crowd. I wouldn’t be special.”

Ren rubbed the back of his neck. “Well,” he said slowly, “if we got into a romantic relationship, that’d be its own kind of special…”

Goro gave him a tired, bitter look. “Would it? Or would I be the latest in a string of your conquests?”

Ren frowned. He also said nothing.

“We barely know each other. We’ve known each other… what? Two days?” Goro continued. “You say you see me as your savior and you want to break me out of here, but how do I know, if that happens, you won’t get bored of me and leave me behind?”

“Why do you think I’d do that?” Ren asked.

“Why wouldn’t you? Everyone leaves,” he muttered.

An awkward silence hung between them like a noose.

Eventually, Goro sighed. “Don’t misunderstand. I truly do appreciate your outrage on my behalf. But even if I did let you take me from here, if things didn’t work out between us, I’d have nowhere to go. I’d be just as alone as before. At least here, I have my physical needs met.”

Ren shook his head slowly. “You really think I’d just abandon you if things didn’t work out?”

“I don’t know, Ren. I don’t know you. That’s the point,” Goro replied wearily. “I don’t even know if you really do find me attractive, or if you just see vulnerabilities to exploit. Incidentally, that makes infinitely more sense than if you really did want to have anything to do with a filthy criminal like me.”

Ren bowed his head. After a moment, he cleared his throat and stood, hands slipping into his pockets. “Thank you for being honest with me, Goro. I understand how you feel a lot better now,” he said quietly. “You’re right about one thing: it hasn’t been a long time since we first met. But I want you to know, you don’t feel like a stranger to me. From the very start, something about you felt familiar.”

Goro looked up. “Wh-what?”

“You might not believe me. I can’t blame you if you don’t,” Ren admitted. “But you already know what I’m talking about.”

His spine locked up. It couldn’t be. “I… am not sure I do,” he said cautiously. To test him, he added, “Do you mean how we’re both Persona Users? That was a surprise, but… you mentioned several of your crew members are Persona Users. I’m hardly special in that respect.”

“That’s not quite it.” He took a cautious step forward, then another, until the gap between him and Goro had nearly closed.

Goro tensed, heartbeat fluttering, and looked him in the eye. “What, then?”

Ren gave him that tender, angelic smile of his. “Satanael,” he chanted. Blue flames torched into existence behind him, then materialized into a Persona. But it wasn’t the cloaked form of Arsène, but a great golden-horned being with six vast, demonic wings…

Goro’s eyes widened.

“You’re a Wild Card,” Ren murmured, “just like me.”


	6. The Wild Cards

The first hour of signaling went poorly, because Goro had never actually done it before. The two of them had to figure out the controls for the lantern cage as they went to make it do what they wanted, and there wasn’t a manual to assist them. Once they figured it out, the second hour went more easily. Ren composed a brief message in a Morse-like code that his crew used, essentially ‘HERE I AM.’ Then they beamed it to the south and set it on repeat once a minute for the next several hours, watched, and waited. No ships signaled back. Eventually they decided to call it quits before they drew unwanted attention and set the lighthouse back to normal.

As they returned downstairs, Ren yawned and remarked, “Today’s been a hell of a day.”

Goro chuckled. “It’s hard to believe it’s been only _one_ day.”

“Every day’s packed with excitement when you’re with me,” he said brightly.

“I’m sure,” he said with dry humor. When they reached the living quarters floor, he paused. “Ren? How can you always stay so… positive?”

“Hmm? Mm.” His expression clouded. “Between just you and me?”

He leaned in. “Of course.”

“To be honest…” He hesitated. Goro waited, then followed and joined him when he retired to the couch. “To be honest,” he continued, “some of it is an act.” He met Goro’s stare, expression grave. “As leader, a lot of people look to me for guidance and reassurance. If I act scared, unsure, or despondent, it throws everyone in disarray. My mood--the _captain’s_ mood--infects the whole crew. So I’ve taught myself to automatically act lively and look on the bright side of things to keep others’s spirits up.”

Goro nodded. “It sounds like you put yourself under a lot of pressure to be what others expect you to be.” His lashes drooped. “…I can relate.”

He half-smiled. “Well, only _some_ of it’s an act.”

“What about when your first act upon recovering was to hit on me?”

Ren’s smile turned sheepish; he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah… well, that was about 50/50?” His smile broadened into a more sincere grin. “A bit inspired by a gorgeous man, that was all about putting an unknown on the back foot. Just in case.”

Goro smiled back and shook his head. “Honestly.” He paused. “Um… I’m sorry for slapping you. Your, ah, bit, was perhaps a bit too effective.”

“It’s fine. I had it coming.” Ren covered another yawn. “Mm… but, maybe we should save the rest of this conversation for tomorrow…?”

“Oh--yes, of course.” Goro stood, but paused when Ren grabbed the hem of his kimono.

He smiled and spread his arms. “Can I have a good-night hug?”

“What are you, a child?” he huffed. Nonetheless, he half-smiled, then gingerly sat back down next to them. Once their legs nearly overlapped, he hesitated, then slipped his arms around Ren.

Ren accepted him and pulled him close and pulled him _down_ , until he’d sprawled on the couch and Goro had draped on top of him. Goro tensed momentarily, but Ren didn’t push further than that. Soon he relaxed and rested his head on Ren’s shoulder. Ren returned the gesture, resting his head on Goro’s.

They could have parted. They didn’t. There on the couch they held each other until at last Goro drifted off into peaceful slumber.

* * *

_You’re a Wild Card, just like me._

Goro stirred, then lifted his head from Ren’s chest. Ren himself had fallen asleep at some point; he was a sound sleeper, too, for he didn’t stir even when Goro extricated himself from his arms. He watched him slumber, remembering their conversation last night. Then he got up and began his morning rituals.

“You’re a Wild Card, just like me, _”_ Ren had said as Satanael floated at his back.

For a moment, Goro hadn’t known what to say, let alone what to do or how to feel. He could only stare, overwhelmed.

Ren had continued, “I might have a few Persona Users on my crew. But never in my entire life have I ever met another Wild Card.” He’d taken a step closer; gently cupped Goro’s hands over his. “You have no idea what that means to me.”

Goro had looked down at their hands, then up at Ren’s face. Never? Then that meant… He relaxed. “You’re the first for me, too,” he whispered. It wasn’t strictly true, but the only other time was a literal lifetime ago. He wanted so badly to be able to start over. Maybe, with Ren, he could.

Ren had swallowed hard. His dark eyes shone as they stared deep into Goro’s own. “I know we barely know each other. But I’d really like it if we had an opportunity to change that.”

His fingers had slipped in between Ren’s. “I… I’d like that, too.”

And Ren had smiled like the Milky Way, a stream of starry brilliance in the depths of night. Goro knew then he wanted to be with him, everything else be damned.

He was still smiling to himself as he opened the lighthouse door and breathed in the wet air. It was drizzling again today--no surprise there--and he wondered if Ren’s ship would still be looking for him in this weather. He gathered up his chains, shut the door firmly, and head back upstairs.

Once he returned, Ren was at the kitchen counter, grinding beans. He caught sight of and smiled at him.

“Good morning!” he chirped. “I’ll have coffee ready for us soon.”

“You could have just made instant,” Goro told him.

Ren made a face. “I’ll pass on drinking garbage, thanks.”

Goro snorted and laughed. He knew how he felt. “You’re such a snob,” he teased anyway, because having someone to tease gave him a rush.

“Once I get you out of here, we’ll have nothing but fresh-ground coffee every morning, and then you’ll be an even bigger snob than me.”

Goro laughed again, but heart pangs kept it quiet. Quiet as a skinny young barista, perpetually slouching, eyes obscured behind a pair of over-large glasses. Talking to Ren really did dredge up all sorts of repressed memories.

“Anyway, go ahead and relax. I’ll finish up breakfast for us.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” he decided. Restaurants aside, he’d had someone cook for him as often as he’d cooked for someone else. He fetched the pile of newspapers Sae had brought him and brought them to the dining table. He’d already arranged them in chronological order when he’d put everything away the other day, so he picked up the first and started with the front page.

He regretted it almost immediately. The headline was some suck-up piece about the ‘greatness’ of Emperor Masayoshi’s reign and how insurgents were at an all-time low and all the land was at peace and blah blah blah blah. There were some other minor stories that implied not all of this was the case, including a tiny piece about pirate attacks on imperial ships, that only highlighted that this newspaper was firmly under Shido’s thumb. It made Goro sick.

“You okay?” Ren asked, prepping a pair of plates.

“I’m fine,” Goro managed. “A little ill at ease, that’s all. Unsavory news in the papers.”

“Ah, yeah, the press sure has gone downhill.” He walked the plates over, handed one to Goro, and set the other at the counter where he sat. Then he offered him a lopsided smile. “Don’t let it get to you. The world’s not as bad as they want you to think it is.”

And for some reason, that genuinely cheered him up. He smiled back, folded up the paper, and set it aside. “I suppose it can’t be, if there are people like you living freely.”

Ren grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

They both tucked into their meals: two slices of bread, one with orange marmalade, the other topped with half a ham steak and a fried egg. A cup of Blue Mountain coffee accompanied each plate. It all smelled heavenly. Goro made short work of his meal and long work of his drink. The heat of it felt especially comforting with all the gray rain pattering at the windows.

“Perhaps we could send out more signals to your crew,” he suggested. “The lighthouse runs in this sort of weather, after all.”

“Great! I can’t wait to introduce you to everybody. You’ll love ‘em.”

After washing the dishes and refilling their mugs, Goro and Ren head upstairs to initiate the same message as last night. As Robin Hood emitted dots and dashes of light, they sat together at the controls. Ironically, only here were there enough chairs for the two of them to do so.

Either way, Goro imagined they’d be sitting here watching for signs of Ren’s ship for a while. He gave him a look both curious and cautious. His stirring memories, and the familiar taste of Ren’s coffee, made him wonder, “May I ask you something? You said before that it was a long story, how you went from making this,” he held up his coffee, “to sailing out there,” he gestured with it to the rainy seas. “We have plenty of time now. Would you be willing to share?”

“Oh yeah, I did skip over that, huh. Sure, if you’re really interested.”

“Do you really think I’m not?”

Ren smiled. Then he set down his mug and leaned his chin on one hand. “To make one thing clear, I didn’t go straight from working in a coffee shop to captaining my own ship. I only did that for about a year when I was a teenager.”

“Your teenage years were not actually all that long ago,” Goro pointed out.

“Five years is five years! Though this was actually closer to seven years ago.”

_Seven years?_

“Anyway,” Ren continued. “This was all right before the war. While I was working at that café, I met a lot of the people who’d end up in my crew, including the Persona Users. Things were mostly normal for a while.” His expression soured. “Then then-shogun Shido started his bid to take over the imperial throne.”

“Technically, his bid started well before that,” Goro said automatically. “There were over two years of earnest preparation that--I’m sorry, excuse me, please go on.”

Ren stopped peering at him to shake his head. “I sure as hell didn’t want that asshole on the throne, so I rebelled. But I had no idea just how big a machine I was up against. Nearly got killed a bunch of times. The last time was when I got caught.”

Goro startled. “You were caught? And you _lived_?”

He laughed. “Sometimes I can’t believe it myself. Maybe I got lucky; maybe they got sloppy.” His smile faded. “Maybe it was some of both. Shogun Shido became Emperor Shido right after that, after all, and the best I could do was go into hiding and survive.”

He breathed out a sigh. “You’re probably right about ‘both.’ Those days towards the end were especially chaotic. Lots of little rebellions had popped up.” _I was especially busy as a result,_ he didn’t say. “I’m surprised that a Wild Card like you had gotten overlooked, though.”

There had been another Wild Card at the time--one who’d raised a significant following, with whom he’d clashed a handful of times (significant for the fact that most people Goro engaged as an assassin, he never saw again) in the back-alley shadows of the city. He’d been shocked to meet another back then, and genuinely surprised now to know there’d been even more. Wild Cards, or Persona Users who could summon multiple Personas, were said to be one in a million. Then again, Tokyo had a population of over 37 million, so that would imply there were at least thirty-seven Wild Cards in the Kanto region alone. The numbers were probably not all that accurate. It wasn’t as though the national census counted their kind.

Regardless, that one was dead. Goro had personally seen to it. All these little similarities had to be a coincidence.

Ren, for his part, shrugged. “I guess that’s the ‘lucky’ part.”

“I suppose so. So then what happened?”

“After a while, I managed to get a hold of my own boat. A bunch of my friends and me came together, and we decided to ditch this shithole country. That was a few years ago. After building up some experience and capital overseas, we came back earlier this year, and we’ve been doing business ever since.”

That was rather disappointingly normal. But then, normalcy was a rare prize for Persona Users. “What sort of business do you do?”

“Imports and exports.”

Goro rolled his eyes and smiled. “I meant specifically.”

Ren grinned back. “Oh, a little bit of everything. You could call it a jack-of-all-trades business.”

“That sounds like you, somehow,” he said dryly. “But… I’m glad for your success. It’s a little heartening to hear.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Persona Users aren’t exactly popular in this country. It’s nice to know that several are working together and leading happy, productive lives.”

Ren gave him a crooked smile. It soon faded. “…Say. You worked for Shido. Did you know of any other Persona Users under his control?”

“There were a few… As you no doubt remember, Shido pushed hard for demon-summoning accessibility as part of his campaign. Having troops that could control demons was a large part of what made his bid for the throne successful. Of course, now that he’s in control, this ‘accessibility’ is strictly regulated by his regime.”

He made a face. “I sure do remember that.”

Goro chuckled wryly. “For all that and his anti-Persona propaganda, he was perfectly willing to make use of whatever convenient tools became available to him.” He glanced to one side. “That being said, most didn’t survive the war. Those that did, he made up excuses to have killed so they wouldn’t pose a threat to his regime. I imagine there were few exceptions.”

“Did you ever hear of one called the Black Mask?”

Goro stiffened.

“So you have,” Ren observed. “Do you… know what happened to him?”

Goro opened his mouth; shut it. Suddenly it was very dry. He covered it up with a long drink of coffee. “Ah… It’s been a long time, of course,” he hedged. “But… the last I heard of the Black Mask, His Imperial Majesty had sentenced him to death.”

It wasn’t a lie. The fearsome Black Mask was dead and gone. All that remained of him was a weak, pathetic lighthouse keeper.

Ren breathed out a long sigh. “I see.”

“Why do you ask?” Goro prompted.

He shook his head. “Just curious. If he’s dead, it doesn’t matter now.”

An unpleasant notion gnawed rat-like on the edges of Goro’s consciousness. He boxed it up and put it away. “Let’s discuss something more pleasant, then. Why don’t you tell me about some of the places to which you’ve traveled?”

Ren brightened. “I’d be thrilled to!”

And so he launched into descriptions of his journeys: Okinawa to the south, Sapporo to the north, and all up and down the coastline of the mainland from Russia to China to the Philippines. He told him about how he and his chef had studied different types of curry all over the Indian subcontinent, how his second mate had played tour guide to everyone through the British Isles, how his not-a-cat companion had advised them through encounters with sea monsters both mythological and mundane. He spun to his feet and re-enacted battles, and Goro laughed and clapped to egg him on. He noted based on Ren’s footwork and the movement of his hands and wrists that his primary weapon was likely a dagger or a short sword. What a(nother) coincidence.

At length, though, Goro had to hold a hand up. “As much as I’m enjoying your tales, I need to attend to my daily chores,” he said.

Ren straightened out of a pantomimed jab. “I’ll help you out.”

“What? You don’t need to do that.”

“What else is there to do?” He crooked a grin. “Anyway, I like cleaning. If it means we can keep chatting, so much the better.”

Goro smiled as he brushed his hair back. “Oh? You really are an unusual captain.”

Ren dipped into an ostentatious bow, as if to thank him for the compliment. Goro laughed, and after setting the lighthouse light back to normal, they fetched the cleaning equipment from the supply closet together. Cleaning went by in a snap with Ren’s assistance and company. He was good at it, too. Goro had to give him minimal instruction, and that was only to align Ren to Goro’s personal idiosyncrasies. Goro hadn’t had the chance to ask him the main question he’d wanted to ask when he’d brought up Ren’s past, but it was difficult to care when the present was so much more pleasant.


	7. The Chain (Gold)

When Goro and Ren finished cleaning the lighthouse and put all the supplies back, they retired to the couch. Goro sat a little closer to Ren than he’d intended, but Ren stretched an arm out along the couch’s back behind his shoulders, and Goro let himself lean his head on Ren’s shoulder… It was extremely soothing.

“Do you clean this whole place by yourself every day?” Ren wondered.

“Who else would I clean with?” Goro pointed out. “But yes. It’s part of my duties.”

“Seems like a pain.”

“It’s not so bad. It occupies my time. Anyway, I like cleaning, too. There’s something meditative about it, and it lets me maintain control over my environment.”

Apparently that sounded weird, because Ren’s eyebrows went up. “Oh yeah? Yeah, I can see that,” he said, nodding once. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Er… Did I say something strange?”

“Kind of. But then I remembered you’re a prisoner.” Quieter, he added, “I’ve been there.”

 _Nearly got killed a bunch of times. The last time was when I got caught._ Ren’s words from earlier came back to him. He had to have been held captive for a while. Goro searched his recollection for a Wild Card--or even just a Persona User--who’d been in holding before having an encounter with the Black Mask that he might have survived. He couldn’t recall any. Then again, perhaps pride was keeping him from imagining _any_ encounter with the Black Mask as survivable… Goro’s eyelashes drooped. As if his assassin days were anything to be proud of. He pushed the memories away again.

“That must have been hard on you,” he murmured, curling up closer.

Ren brushed his fingers along Goro’s hair. “I’m sure it’s harder on you right now.”

A shiver shook Goro’s shoulders. He looked at Ren, and since Ren was already looking at him, he stopped with their faces less than an inch apart. Their noses brushed together; their breaths clashed and mixed; they stared into each other’s eyes. For a moment, Goro was paralyzed. He wanted to be with him, but--

Then Ren leaned in a little, that same testing way as before.

Goro shot up to his feet. “B-by the way! You must be tired of having to, ah, to wear the same thing. We’re about the same height. My clothes would likely fit you. Would you like a change?” he babbled.

Ren stood up with him. “Change is good. I’m always up for change.”

So Goro guided him a few feet away to the wardrobe and invited him to look through it. Ren opened the main doors to flip through kimonos hanging from hangers, and rummaged through drawers for obi, shitagi, and--Goro cursed himself for his lack of foresight--fundoshi. Sure enough, Ren picked up one of the loincloth-like briefs, held them up, and grinned at him.

“Red underwear, huh?” he teased. “Is that what you’re wearing right now?”

Goro had no idea how to respond to that without putting himself on the defensive, so he said nothing.

After a moment, Ren set them down. “Well, red’s a good color. Can’t go wrong with red,” he conceded. Similarly, he picked a red obi, then decided on a dark gray kimono and matching shitagi, and gathered them all up.

“Do you mind if I get a shower before I change?” he said.

“Not at all. You’re free to use the bathroom whenever you like,” Goro replied, gesturing its way.

Ren grinned. “What about when you’re using it?”

“It would be rather cramped for two people,” he said dryly.

“Wanna test that out?”

Goro had a feeling that was what Ren was driving at, so he was less flustered than he had been a moment ago. “Do you try to embarrass me on purpose?” he huffed instead.

Ren rocked closer. “I’m not trying to _embarrass_ you, Goro,” he purred.

For a fleeting moment, Goro wondered how Ren would react if he actually flirted back. If he kissed him first. The mental image tempted him--as did the desire to push back. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

Ren’s expression blanked out. “Wait. Do what?”

Goro smirked as he turned towards the bathroom, hands snaking to his back to untie his obi. “Did you already forget how you suggested we try using the bathroom at the same time? I could use a shower, myself.”

The surprise that suffused Ren’s face was an exquisite pleasure. The way he stared as Goro casually undressed wasn’t bad for the ego, either--and the way he ultimately coughed into a fist and averted his gaze? It felt like a triumph, and he basked in it.

But then Ren said airily, “Well. If that’s okay by you, it’s okay by me.”

Goro startled still. Wait, really? “I-I was joking,” he said, and then cursed himself for stammering.

Sure enough, Ren pounced on his hint of weakness with a smirk. “Feeling shy?”

And his easy recovery irritated him. No, at best he’d only been surprised, not _embarrassed_. Goro’s challenge had been unsuccessful. Yet if he backed down now, Ren would tease him even more mercilessly than before. Goro tossed his hair as haughtily as he could. “I just don’t want you feeling like you don’t _measure up_ ,” he quipped.

Ren’s smirk grew into an outright grin. Fuck. Goro was absolutely digging his grave deeper. “After you, then.”

So Goro had to muster up the remaining shreds of his dignity. Dropping his clothes off in the hamper, he strode into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped inside even though the water hadn’t had a chance to warm up at all.

Ren followed him in a moment later. Goro yanked the shower curtain shut and didn’t dare look his way. “Goro. D’you have a spare toothbrush?” he called over the rush of water.

Goro busied himself with the shower knobs. This water was _freezing_. “I don’t.”

“Hmm. Figures.” A pause. “D’you mind if I use your toothpaste?”

“Go ahead.”

Ren didn’t respond. After a moment, Goro pulled the curtain back just enough to peek. Sure enough, he was naked save for his gold necklace. It looked like he was using his finger to scrub the paste over his teeth… But as much as Goro had told himself he wouldn’t let his gaze stray, his eyes inevitably went to Ren’s bare--

He whipped around and busied himself with the soap and the scrub brush. The water had begun to warm, but he turned it off automatically now that he’d been soaked through.

“You’re not done al’eady?” Ren wondered, surprise in his muffled voice.

“No, I’m--” Goro made an exasperated sound. “There’s no point in letting the water run while I’m scrubbing.”

“Oh, ‘ight.”

Neither spoke for a moment after that. Goro tried to focus on his skin, but he couldn’t stop being hyperaware of Ren’s presence, the outline of his shadow past the curtain. The way he stood in front of the sink, the way he gargled and spat, the way he rinsed his hands and mouth, the way he turned and--

“What are you doing?!” Goro yelped, whirling around, scrub-brush clattering to the slightly tilted shower floor.

Ren, having just shoved the curtain open, knelt down to pick it up. His expression was the portrait of innocence as he stood and held it out to him. “Want me to wash your back?”

The shower was not large at all. It might be possible for both of them to fit if they squeezed in. Goro wondered what would happen if he accepted. The idea of their wet skin rubbing and sliding against each other sent another shiver through him. He quickly faced away from Ren to keep him from seeing, and there was but one excuse to cover it.

“…Please,” he murmured.

Gently, firmly, the bristles began to scrape up and down his shoulderblades. Goro tensed, arms folded up hard on his chest, fingertips lightly touching the tiled wall. He felt Ren touch his ribs as he scrubbed over a larger and larger area, felt his touch trace down to his hips. Goro sucked in a breath and held it, torn on what he wanted to happen next.

“Don’t be so tense,” Ren murmured. His deep voice was calm, persuasive. Goro remained tense. Ren hadn’t actually entered the shower cell, but there was nothing stopping him from trapping Goro and doing as he pleased.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ren added. Goro realized abruptly he was afraid. Though his touch was seductive, it was also all too sudden. He’d let this happen because he was annoyed and stubborn, and now he’d made himself vulnerable. Who knew what the consequences would be?

But… then there weren’t any. Ren washed his back, then gave him the brush back and closed the curtain for him. Goro’s heart hammered in his chest as his hands shook. Then he washed the rest of himself with brisk strokes and turned on the water. The warmth eased some of the tension away. Eventually he emerged, reaching for a towel without looking at Ren.

“Sorry,” Ren said as he slipped into the now-open shower. “I made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m--just not used to company,” Goro said. It was a little more convincing now that he wasn’t at Ren’s mercy.

Ren made a small noise, the emotion behind which Goro couldn’t identify. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“What?”

“And I want you to know, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m just asking.”

“Ask already, then.”

“Can you wash my back, too?”

Goro shot him a look, towel half-draped over his shoulders. Ren stood with his back to him, shoulders square, one hand on the shower wall, the other holding the freshly-soaped brush out behind him. Goro licked his lips; then he eased close and took it.

“Hold still,” he murmured.

Ren did. He seemed completely relaxed as Goro scrubbed his shoulder blades, his spine, his hips, and everything in between--so relaxed that it struck him as absurd. Or was he the absurd one? Was this actually normal? Goro realized all of a sudden he didn’t know. Public bathhouses existed. He’d visited plenty of them when he’d been a child, even. He’d just always done it alone. Maybe this _was_ normal. God knew he himself wasn’t.

“Um… Is that good?” he hazarded.

“Yeah, it’s nice. Thanks.”

“…Good,” he concluded. He finished up, then handed the brush back. “Um… I’ll let you handle the rest, then.”

Ren accepted it and glanced back at him. Goro pulled the shower curtain shut, rinsed his hands and face at the sink, and dried off. The shower water turned back on as he left.

The door firmly shut at his back, Goro leaned on it and breathed out a long sigh. Now that his nerves were settling, he found himself oddly disappointed. Rather than analyze why, he quickly dressed and put on some music on low volume. The smooth improvisation of jazz musicians relaxed him further, and he settled on the couch with _The Midnight Fog_.

Ren eventually emerged. Goro pointedly did not look at him as he gathered the outfit he’d picked and put it on. Only once he was fully dressed did he lift his face. Ren smiled at him and spread his arms.

“How do I look?”

He had to admit, Ren looked good; dark grays and bold reds suited him well. There was one problem, though: “Your obi is too loose.”

“Is it?” He looked down at himself. “Yeah, figures. I don’t really wear Japanese-style clothing that often. I can never manage to tie my obi and keep my kimono tight at the same time.”

Goro sighed and rolled his eyes, smiling a bit to himself. “I’ll tie it for you. Come here.”

Obediently, Ren offered his back to him. Goro undid the bindings, let Ren pull the folds of his kimono tighter, then tied the obi properly.

“There. Much better,” he said, satisfied.

Ren half-twirled to face him. “Thanks! You’re the best.”

Goro’s smile broadened with fondness. This really was much better. “May I ask you something?”

“What’s up?”

“You’re still wearing that necklace. Is it special?”

He touched the gold around his neck. It was made up of a series of tight V-shaped links, called a fishbone pattern. “Oh, this? Nah. I got a ton of necklaces like this. But this one _is_ my favorite.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t lose it in the storm, then.”

“There’s a lot I’m lucky I didn’t lose!” He ran his fingers under and around it, then gave Goro a thoughtful look. “You wanna try it on? I bet gold looks good on you.”

“What?” Goro laughed, thinking it a joke, and held out a hand palm-flat. “I’m afraid I’m not much of one for jewelry.”

“Aww, but that’s no fun! Here.” And then Ren was reaching behind his neck and undoing the clasp and holding the chain out. “You can just hold it up and look in the mirror.”

Somewhere between startled and puzzled, Goro accepted it. He stared at the necklace in his hand, then up at Ren. When Ren nodded him on, he shook his head in resignation, then went to the bathroom for the mirror.

Admittedly, Ren was right: gold _did_ look good on him. It matched the highlights in his hair. He turned his chin this way and that, admiring his reflection, before ultimately deciding to attempt to latch the clasp at the back of his neck.

Emphasis on _attempt_. Ren walked up to and leaned on the doorway during his third fumble.

“Having trouble?” he teased.

“I’ve got it,” Goro huffed. He cursed when the little latch slipped from his fingers again.

Ren grinned. However, his tone was understanding when he said, “That kind of clasp can be kinda tricky if you’re not used to it. It’s a little too short to just chain in front, too--you still can’t see what you’re doing. Want me to put it on you?”

In point of fact, he’d just been about to reverse the necklace and try to latch it in front. He tensed up a little, thinking of Ren’s hands at his back and neck again. But…

“Please,” he said softly.

So Ren stepped close and took the ends of the necklace from him. Goro lowered his hands and watched him in the reflection as he worked his long fingers and-- _click_. He took a step back, and Goro found himself disappointed.

Of course. Goro already knew he wanted him. It was just a matter of too much, too fast. Or maybe he was just a coward.

“It _does_ look nice on you,” Ren said then.

Goro fluffed his hair out from under the necklace and made a show of looking at himself. “You’re right,” he said, already knowing he was right. “I suppose I can’t fault your taste.”

He laughed a little. “You like it? I’ll give it to you.”

“What?” Goro turned to stare at him. “But you said it was your favorite.”

“Yeah.” Ren’s gaze gentled. “But I like the way it looks on you more.”

His heart stumbled and skipped into a sprint. The tenderness in Ren’s eyes frightened and enchanted him in equal measure. The only thing worse than Ren’s devil-may-care flirtations was his apparent sincerity.

 _Why do I have to be like this?_ Goro wondered, frustration welling up inside. _Why can’t I just be glad he--likes--me? Didn’t I want to be with him?_ _Why am I_ like _this?!_

But even as he asked himself, he knew why. He couldn’t trust anything this easy or this good. Sooner or later, the other shoe would drop, and he’d be all alone again. Goro bowed his head and touched the chain around his neck.

“…You don’t like it?” Ren asked then.

“No, it’s… it’s nice. Thank you.”

“You seem upset.”

“I’m not _upset_ , I’m just…” He pursed his lips. “No, I am upset,” he admitted. “But I’m not upset at you. I think.”

Ren considered this. “Is this the first time someone’s given you a present like this?”

Goro felt his face flush. “It’s not the _first_ time,” he insisted defensively. “I got those beans for my birthday just the other day, didn’t I?”

“Oh, right.”

“You forgot?” he asked wearily.

“Sometimes I forget things.”

Goro thought abruptly of his old rival. _He wouldn’t have forgotten,_ he thought, and immediately felt guilty about it. Who was he to judge when he’d forced that boy out of mind so long he could no longer remember his face?

Ren rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been coming on too strong, haven’t I. I’ve been freaking you out. I’m sorry. That’s not what I wanted to happen.”

Goro fell silent. The gold chain tangled between his fingers and dug into his skin. Without looking at him, he stepped forward into Ren, who staggered and caught him reflexively.

“You have,” he murmured. “Been freaking me out by coming on so strong, I mean. But I don’t actually mind it, mostly. I like being the recipient of your unambiguous attraction. I just…”

Ren paused. To avoid seeing his expression, Goro buried his face in Ren’s shoulder. After a moment, Ren stroked his hair. “You’re a difficult man to read,” he murmured, amusement glowing in his tone. “But I like that about you.”

Goro laughed weakly. “That makes one of us.” Still, he relaxed in Ren’s arms. His hands running down his hair felt so soothing…

Gently, so gently, Ren stepped back and pulled Goro with him. He followed him back to the couch, where they sat. Goro leaned his forehead on Ren’s shoulder as he cautiously rested his hands on Ren’s stomach and waist, and Ren encouraged him by burying one hand in Goro’s hair at the nape of his neck and resting the other on Goro’s arm, just above his elbow. Goro shut his eyes and enjoyed it. To hold, to be held… This was lovely. This was safe.

He really was a coward. Once, when he wanted something, he’d reach out and seize it. Was he that afraid of the person he used to be?

 _Yes,_ came the immediate answer. Goro sighed in frustration.

“Something wrong?” Ren asked.

“Yes. With me,” he muttered.

He pulled them apart enough to, when Goro lifted his head, look him in the eye. “D’you want to talk about it?”

Maybe they should have talked about it. Maybe that would have helped. But when Goro looked into his face, the words caught in his throat. _Kiss me,_ he thought with all his fervent strength. However, not even a Persona-User had the power of telepathy.

Eventually, Ren gave him a rueful smile. “I’ll give you some space, then,” he concluded, leaning back. He stretched, back arching, arms over his head. “Man, it’s really too quiet around here! How ‘bout I turn up the music and we play a game of chess?”

Goro nodded mutely and watched him walk away. He rubbed the chain at his neck, felt its ribbed pattern under his fingertips.

 _Next time. Next time,_ he swore.

Next time he wouldn’t give in to his cowardice.


	8. The Rose

The next few days offered no such opportunity. As promised, Ren gave Goro some space. It both helped and did the opposite of help. As if to reflect Goro’s shifting mood, the rain was light and intermittent. In exchange, the air was insufferably muggy. It made Goro wish he hadn’t sent back his old, broken fan with Sae’s ship last winter in the vain hopes he might actually get a new or at least functional one back in time for this sort of weather. Maybe Ren could have fixed it. Spending all day taking a cold shower wasn’t really feasible, either.

At first, Ren’s suggestion that they go swimming also didn’t seem feasible; as he demonstrated, Goro’s chain suddenly lost all slack a couple of feet past any door leading outside. It was at least enough for them to lounge outside with a fishing pole and a large bucket for whatever they caught, though, Ren’s legs dangling off the end of the metal porch while Goro kept his feet draped beneath himself, each of them seated on a towel. Watching Ren fish wasn’t bad at all, it turned out. It would help supplement their food, and since these waters teemed with fish, every other cast got a new bite.

“This really is a nice place for a vacation,” Ren observed after his fifth sea bream. “I haven’t gotten to fish like this in ages.”

“You’re literally a sailor,” Goro pointed out.

“I’m not a _fisherman_. I just like to fish every now and then,” Ren countered, unhooking the bream and plopping it in the bucket. “Man, these’ll make _great_ sashimi.”

That caught Goro’s interest. “You know how to prepare sushi and sashimi?”

“Nope!”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. Of course not.

“But I can do a decent filet,” Ren added, “and what is sashimi if not tiny filets?”

“There’s far more to sashimi than just being ‘tiny filets’!”

“Oh yeah? Do _you_ know how to prepare sashimi?”

“Of course not! It takes ten years of experience before one can even start to become a decent sushi-sashimi chef!”

“Then consider me in the middle of my ten years.”

“You aren’t even the chef on your ship!!”

“No, but I told you, I like making food for my favorite people.” Ren grinned at him. “And you seem pretty interested in the prospect.”

That was certainly true. Despite living directly on the ocean, Goro hadn’t had sushi or sashimi since before his punishment. Of course, his main interest in it back then had been the implied prestige… What did that matter now? “I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to let you try,” he conceded. “If nothing else, I’m sure you can’t be worse at fileting than me.”

“That’s the spirit! And whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”

“I don’t think that applies in this situation,” he said dryly, but with a tease of a half-smile.

“It applies in _every_ situation when you’re me,” Ren--boasted? Was he boasting? He certainly seemed like he was trying to show off, the way he raked a hand through his dark curls.

“Should I shove you into the water, then?” he joked.

“And ruin this perfectly handsome yukata? Are you kidding? I could _never_.”

It was so absurd, Goro had to laugh. Ren grinned back at him. He was right; this _was_ a nice vacation.

“Would be nice to catch something different, though,” Ren added as he re-baited and cast his line. “Maybe a nice albacore tuna.”

“That line isn’t nearly strong enough to catch a tuna, and anyway, this is the wrong season for them,” Goro pointed out.

“Do you always have to be such a killjoy?”

“I prefer to call it ‘being realistic.’”

Ren snorted. “Sounds like the same thing.”

“Does it? If you’re really a ship captain, you must have plenty of times where you need to be realistic, too.”

“We all do things because we need to! That doesn’t mean we have to _like_ it.”

“True,” he conceded.

“Anyway, you can’t be realistic 100% of the time. Not in a place like this,” Ren pointed out. “You’d go crazy.”

Goro flicked his gaze down. “You think I’m crazy, then?”

“I’m saying you’ve obviously got your own personal, unrealistic diversions to keep yourself sane. Like reading fiction.”

“Also true,” he admitted with reluctance. How easily had he lost himself in _The Midnight Fog_?

“Do you ever write fiction?” Ren wondered then.

Goro blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Write. Fiction. D’you ever do that?”

It was such an absurd question that he laughed. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because it’s fun?”

“No, no--” He shook his head and smiled ironically at the dark waters several feet below. “I don’t have any talent for story-telling.”

“Who says you have to be good at it? You can just do it to pass the time, because it’s fun.”

“I suppose…”

“And anyway, maybe you’re better at it than you think.”

“Doubtful.”

“Why don’t you tell me a story, then?”

“What?”

“Tell me a story.” Slowly, Ren reeled in his line. “I like adventure, romance, thrills, and mystery.”

Goro sputtered, “I-I can’t think of anything.”

“Then pick something at random and make the rest up as you go.”

“What part of ‘I can’t think of anything’ do you not understand?”

Ren grinned that beautiful, tantalizing smile of his. “A brilliant guy like you who’s lead such an incredibly interesting life? Impossible. I bet you’ve actually thought of too much and you just can’t pick.”

Goro huffed and tossed his long hair to cover up a flush of embarrassed pleasure. Was he really this easy to manipulate? Yet he wanted to hear Ren compliment him more. He still had no confidence in his story-telling ability, but if this was what he really wanted… Adventure, romance, thrills, and mystery. At least he had some kind of framework there. “Don’t expect too much,” he warned him.

“I’ll keep my expectations reasonable,” Ren replied, then cast again.

To buy himself time, Goro took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. It had the side benefit of calming him and clearing his thoughts. He looked up at the overcast skies and thought how much nicer it would be if it were a cloudless night sky glittering with stars.

Following that train of thought, he began, “Once… there was a handsome rogue who sailed the stars on a ship fashioned from a comet.”

“Ooh, sci-fi. I’m already into it.”

“Don’t interrupt.”

“Sorry.”

“Though he was a rogue, he was also a man with firm morals and convictions,” Goro continued, glancing at Ren. “He sailed when and where he pleased throughout the galaxy, obeying only the laws of his own heart, which commanded him to protect the weak from the wickedly strong.”

Sure enough, Ren smiled. Of course he’d like this kind of protagonist. Still, Goro couldn’t help but smile a little himself.

“Many heavenly magistrates gnashed their teeth at his unfettered ways, but he sailed on regardless, leaving trails of stardust in his wake,” he said.

“That’s a pretty image. You really are better at this than you think,” Ren commented.

Though he’d interrupted again, Goro’s smile widened as he twisted a lock of hair around a finger. “Thank you.”

“So then what?”

“Then…” He hesitated. Stars… Comets… Of course! Tanabata, the Star Festival, would be next month. He seized on that for inspiration. “Then, one day, he sailed across the Milky Way and reached the star Altair, where Hikoboshi lived. Hikoboshi had long since fallen in love with Orihime, on the other side of the River of Heaven, and the last several Star Festivals had been cloudy, so he’d been unable to see her in a long time. In his desperation and loneliness, he begged the rogue to deliver a letter to Orihime for him. The rogue, feeling sorry for him, agreed.

“So across the Milky Way he sailed until he reached Vega, where Orihime lived. Though she was famed for her beauty, she had languished in the years since she’d been last able to see Hikoboshi. By the time the rogue reached her, she was thus barely more than skin and bones. Even so, once he delivered her lover’s letter, her joy was such that she shone with beauty once more.

“And all would have been well, save that seeing her like this cast a chain upon the rogue’s heart: the chain called love.”

Ren gasped. It might have been purely theatrical, but it pulled a pleased giggle from Goro anyway. Quickly, though, he cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders.

“So, when Orihime wrote a letter full of her impassioned love and gave it to the rogue to deliver to Hikoboshi, he was torn: should he deliver it as requested? Should he throw it away? Or should he write a fake in its stead to drive the lovers apart?”

“No! Don’t do that!” Ren protested, dark eyes wide.

Well. At least Ren made for a transparent audience. Goro sighed a little, partly at Ren, partly for effect. “…In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would hurt Orihime. He delivered the letter to Hikoboshi, and several more back and forth, even though every time he saw Orihime’s face lit with happiness, it drove a dagger deeper and deeper into his heart.”

“Awww…”

By now, Ren had abandoned fishing entirely, setting the rod aside so he could focus on Goro. It was a non-verbal compliment, but it stroked his ego all the same. He smiled and turned to face his audience.

“The next Star Festival, it seemed as though the weather would once again be cloudy, preventing the lovers from seeing each other yet another year,” Goro continued. “Hikoboshi and Orihime had resigned themselves to this fate, but the rogue wanted nothing more than to see Orihime happy, so he set sail with vigor to slash the clouds apart.” As if gripping a saber, he thrust and sliced at the air; to his great satisfaction, Ren lit up and laughed. “One-two, one-two, and through and through! The dreary veils shredded, and the path across the galaxy cleared. Magpies flew to form the bridge, and for the first time in ages, Hikoboshi and Orihime were reunited. They spent the Star Festival inseparable, with eyes only for the other.

“And the rogue was left to watch over them, all alone.”

Ren’s smile drained away. The sight worried Goro, and he decided to wrap it up.

So, quickly, he concluded, “From then on, the rogue decided to settle on a nearby star to continue to watch over the two lovers. That star is called Deneb, and the three stars make up the Summer Triangle. To this day, the rogue still delivers letters between the two, and cuts apart the clouds when he can so they can meet. But sometimes his love for Orihime is so strong that he can’t bear to see her in another man’s arms, and those years, he cannot bring himself to sail… Thus why sometimes, the Star Festival is still cursed with clouds overhead.”

Ren stared at him for a moment. Then he tilted his head up to stare at the overcast sky.

Goro twisted his hair between his fingers. “U-um… That’s it.”

“Yeah. I could tell.”

“I-I’m sorry if it was bad. I told you I have no talent at story-telling.”

That finally fished a rueful smile out of him. Ren shook his head. “No, you were fine. It was interesting, and I liked listening. That ending just really bummed me out, is all.”

“Oh… I apologize.” He glanced away, flustered. “I’m not… especially familiar with happy endings.”

Ren watched him for a moment. Then he offered, “Then how about I make a new ending?”

“I thought I was the one who was supposed to be telling the story.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“W-well, if you insist…”

Ren smiled and scooted a little closer. “I’ll just prompt you, then. How’s that work?”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll do my best…”

“So, after some time of living on Deneb, the rogue decided to move on with his life and his travels,” Ren said. “While he still had lingering feelings for Orihime, he knew it would do none of them any good to pine for someone who loved another, and he thought returning to the starry skies might bring him new adventure--and maybe even new love. So he sailed, and sailed, and sailed, until in a distant corner of the universe, he found a little planet. And there, he found…”

Ren trailed off while looking Goro in the eyes. _The prompt,_ Goro realized. His heart leaped into his throat as he found himself unprepared, and he blurted out, “A rose!”

Ren’s eyebrows lifted. “A rose?”

“A beautiful red rose in eternal full bloom, at the top of a tower of brambles,” Goro continued, scrabbling at various stories he’d read in his childhood. “This rose--could listen and speak as a human could! So when the rogue told her of his troubles, she listened with sympathy.”

Ren smiled. “That was nice of her.”

Goro relaxed. This was stressful, but also rather fun. What next… He caught Ren’s eyes, fixed on Goro with his full attention, and for a second his mouth dried. He swallowed hard, brushing back his hair, and glanced up the lighthouse. Maybe…

“She, too, was lonely, for she lived all alone on this tower. Because her roots grew deep, she could not leave,” he continued softly. “The two of them soothed each other, and spent tireless hours simply talking to one another. Though the rose’s prickles were many, and drew blood at but a touch, the rogue found the danger alluring and soon fell in love anew.”

Ren’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Relatable.”

He snorted, which he turned into a cough. “The rose… the rose was also fond of the rogue,” he said, light and cautious. “But she knew they could not be together. She could not leave her home, and he would never be able to give up the stars.”

Sure enough, Ren’s smile faded again.

“However,” Goro added hastily, “when the rose told the rogue this, he laughed and said--he said--”

In the moment he fumbled, Ren flared an arm over his head. “‘I have stolen a thousand hearts on a thousand stars! To steal you from your lonely garden--’” He circled his hand down, around, and up to hold Goro’s chin. “‘--would be but a trifle for me.’”

Goro swallowed hard as Ren stared into his eyes, perhaps awaiting the next line. Perhaps seeing through the ‘story’ characters for what they really were. “I-I, ah…” He swallowed hard, licking his lips; then, he gently removed Ren’s hand. “‘I have no doubt that I am but a trifle to you,’ said the rose, ‘for I know how fickle are the hearts of men.’” Gaze averted, he squeezed his hands over Ren’s. “‘I am a rose--an ephemeral flower. Pluck me from my garden, and my petals will fade and crumble, and your eyes will turn from me in disgust.’”

“‘Never,’ the rogue said promptly,” Ren replied with equal promptness. He turned his hand around to squeeze Goro’s back. “‘I love all that you are, from your petals to your roots, your leaves to your thorns. Therefore all of you must come with me to the stars, where we may shine together.’”

Goro laughed an ironic, bitter little smile. “‘You are a fool if you think you love me,’ said the rose. ‘I am good for nothing, and in the end I will only hurt you. I welcome your company, but--’”

“‘Is that how you truly feel?’”

The line seemed like not a line, and it jarred Goro. “What?”

“‘Is that how you truly feel?’ the rogue repeated,” Ren said, voice hushed, leaning closer to let Goro still hear. “‘Then tell me true: how do you feel about me?’”

“I-I…” Goro stammered, transfixed by his beautiful storm-gray eyes. All possibilities of the next line flew from his mind. So when Ren leaned in just a little in that testing way, Goro shut his eyes and let what would happen happen.

And it felt nice. It felt _wonderful_ . His lips were soft, their touch insistent, the tip of his tongue a teasing hint of more. Goro felt awkward and fumbling by comparison as he tried to mimic Ren, but when their tongues slid together, just the edges past the borders of their teeth, he knew he wanted more. Ren pulled back first, though, and Goro, fearing he’d turned him off somehow, did likewise. They stared at each other, breath quickened; then Ren turned away, a little too quick, a hand fast to touch his own neck in what Goro recognized in a flash of intuition as _u_ _ncertain_ _ty_. Was he--was he really that nervous--?

Ren licked his lips and cleared his throat. “So,” he said a little too loudly to be entirely natural, “how did the rose respond…?”

Goro stared at him a little longer. He looked down at his own hands, which had been tangled with Ren’s only a moment before. Then he took a deep breath and carefully scooted himself over until his shoulder brushed against Ren’s, until he could lean his head there. He slipped a hand around Ren’s arm, and felt him turn his head towards him.

“…The rose said, ‘I love you too, but I am afraid,’” Goro whispered. “‘If you swear you’ll never abandon me, I will stay with you wherever you go.’”

For a few heartbeats, Ren was silent. Then he slipped his hand over Goro’s. “Then what happened?” he murmured.

“Then…” Goro turned his hand. Ren slipped his fingers between Goro’s. It was such a warm and comforting feeling. “Then the rogue swore, and proceeded to cut down the tower of brambles with care. It took him ages, and many times he tore himself on the thorns, but he never gave up. Eventually, the tower crumbled, leaving the rose and her roots bare to him. With…” He swallowed hard. “With infinite care, he brought the rose to his ship and re-planted her there. The rose rejoiced, for she truly thought it could not be done, but the rogue in his genuine love had proved her wrong.

“And so they left that lonely place behind and sailed to the stars, where they remained together and deeply in love until the end of their days. The End,” he concluded, maybe unnecessarily.

Ren smiled. “That’s a beautiful story. I love it,” he said softly. “You’re incredible, Goro. You’re definitely much better than you think.”

He felt himself blush, and he giggled, heady on the compliments. “I’m glad you think so.”

For a long while, the two of them simply sat there, leaning on each other, hand in hand, as they watched the ocean. Even when it began to drizzle again, they still stayed for a while longer. Only once the rain intensified did Ren look up.

“We should probably get inside and dry off. These sea breams aren’t going to filet themselves, either,” he noted.

Goro laughed faintly and rose to his feet. Honestly, he found that he wouldn’t mind a downpour if it meant he could still be close to Ren. Still: “Shall we go, then?”

Ren crooked a smile back as he joined him. Together, they gathered the towels and the bucket of fish. “As you wish.”


	9. The Pillow Talk

Goro didn’t mean for it to happen; it just did. But that night, he and Ren made love.

After making dinner and prepping the remaining bream for preservation, they’d spent a normal night together, playing games, sending signals, discussing literature, and so on. They’d showered—separately this time—and gone to sleep, Goro on the bed, Ren on the couch. But partway through the night, Goro awoke to Ren thrashing in his sleep.

Being a habitual sufferer of nightmares himself, to the point where they weren’t even worth dwelling on anymore, Goro went to his side to wake him. Ren woke first though, eyes snapping open with a watery, childlike yelp. Goro took his hands in his own and whispered reassurances to him until his breathing calmed.

“What was your nightmare about?” he eventually asked.

“Dying,” Ren whispered.

_At least some of it is an act,_ he’d told him before of his sunny cheer. Goro nodded slowly. It must be lingering trauma. Understandable, but a little surprising. He’d taken nearly drowning in a typhoon with such aplomb that he wouldn’t have guessed it had fucked him up. But that was what the act was for, he expected.

“It’s okay. You’re fine now. Nothing here will hurt you,” he murmured.

“Mm.” For a moment, Ren held Goro’s hands tight. Then: “Goro?”

“Yes?”

“Can I share your bed with you?”

Goro’s throat went dry. A million excuses not to flashed through his head. Instead, he nodded once and gently guided Ren to join him under the covers.

He’d of course intended to keep it chaste. But Ren wouldn’t stop clinging to him, and Goro reveled in this vulnerable, needy side of Ren—in how Ren needed _him_. He caressed him, whispered reassurances to him, pulled him closer… Then Ren kissed him, and—and, well, from there, it was really an inevitability.

It wasn’t anything too intense. They kept their mutual ministrations to their hands and their lips. All the same, it felt incredible. Once the lingering remnants of his nightmare passed, Ren paid back Goro’s affections with interest by praising him, encouraging him, and admiring him both silently and aloud. Fireworks crackled and exploded in Goro’s brain. Eventually they cooled down, arms and legs and breaths tangled as they shared a pillow.

A window overlooked Goro’s bed. Through it spilled the starlight, regularly streaked by the passing of the lighthouse beams. In that pale-bright-pale light, Ren smiled at him like he was truly happy to lie defenseless next to him, and everything was good. The pleasure far outweighed the pain.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ren murmured then.

“What do you think?” Goro teased.

He threaded his fingers through a lock of Goro’s hair. “I think you’re thinking about what a sexy and amazing lover I am and how incredibly smitten you are with me.”

Goro laughed. _Arrogant ass,_ he thought fondly. “Close! Very close.”

“Really?” Ren said with delight.

He traced his pectorals. “Mostly I’m trying to figure out how I let you seduce me so thoroughly.”

“Hmm… I think you wanted to be seduced.”

Naturally, Ren was right. For all Goro’s intermittent hesitation, he knew in his heart he’d wanted this handsome stranger to sweep him off his feet. The idea alone was so romantic, a fantasy he couldn’t have dared to imagine would come true until it did.

“And anyway, I’m pretty sure _you_ seduced _me_ ,” Ren added.

“Excuse me? Who asked to share my bed? Who clung to me and kissed me?”

Ren grinned, but there was a certain bashful quality to it in the dimness. It was tremendously cute and just a little vulnerable.

So Goro relented a little and asked, “Are you feeling better now?”

“ _Much_ better.”

“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”

Ren shook his head. “It’s just a recurring dream I get sometimes. Nothing worth talking about.”

“I see. If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.” He paused. “Can I ask _you_ something, Goro?”

“Hm?”

“Are you still afraid?”

His hand stilled. “I… am.”

“Why?”

Goro gazed into Ren’s eyes, now shrouded in shadow, now illuminated, back and forth in a steady rhythm. “Do you mean ‘why don’t I trust you yet’? Or something else?”

“Just a general sort of, ‘why’?” He paused. “Also, does that mean you don’t trust me?”

“It’s not that I distrust you, per se… I just…” His gaze focused out the window, on the unreachable stars. “I told you before I had to fend for myself growing up. I’m just… used to being abandoned. For my presence to be unwanted, no matter how—how useful and likable I tried to make myself.” His chest ached. “I am… very fond of you. And because of that, I’m—terrified, that once your crew shows up, you’ll leave me behind and forget all about me.”

“Goro, I told you—”

“I know what you told me,” Goro interrupted, sharp and fast and a little breathless. “I think you probably _will_ try to get me out of here. But then it’ll be harder than you think, and you’ll get frustrated, and then you’ll get bored, and then…” He trailed off. After several heartbeats, he concluded in a tiny voice, “It doesn’t matter what you say. It’s not even about you—not really. I just can’t seem to keep hold of anything good.”

Ren was silent. Then he stroked Goro’s hair, which spilled past his shoulders and pooled on the sheets. “Probably nothing I say will really convince you, then, huh.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Of course you’d be worried, waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He slipped his fingers down and under a lock of Goro’s hair, then brought it to his lips to kiss. “So I’ll just have to prove to you with action you can trust me.”

Goro cracked a small smile. “Mm.”

“You still don’t believe me?”

“No, I do. I feel a little better now.”

“Okay.”

They both fell silent. After a time, Goro began to drift off, lulled by Ren’s warmth and closeness. Then:

“Sometimes I don’t know who I am.”

Goro blinked drowsily. “Hm?”

Ren looked equally drowsy. Still, he continued in a low murmur, “I was thinking, it’s not fair to ask you to share and then not share anything myself. So. I wanted to tell you that.”

Goro digested this. When he was sure he was awake enough to process the conversation, he murmured, “What do you mean, you ‘don’t know who you are’?”

“It’s… mm. It’s hard to explain. It’s like, I’m always hiding pieces of myself from everyone. Even the people I love. Especially them, sometimes. Because I have to be a leader, you know? So I have to be more than what I am, to give them strength. So when I’m weak or uncertain, I have to hide it. I don’t know if that’s right. Sometimes it doesn’t bother me. I want to be a better me anyway, so it makes sense to hide it behind a bit of showmanship. And it doesn’t hurt anyone, right? It’s just a thing. But sometimes, late at night, like right now, I think about myself, and I wonder: ‘who am I?’”

“Is this related to your nightmare?”

“I—yeah. Yeah, now that you mention it. It is.”

“It must be very hard on you.”

“It’s not too bad, most of the time. Tonight, though, it was—I don’t know. Especially vivid. Like I was living it all over again. And then I jolted awake, and you were there, and… I just needed to be with you so much.”

“Ren…”

He chuckled. The sound was self-disparaging. “‘Ren,’ huh…”

“Hm?”

“Never mind. I’m just—I guess I want to ask, does any of this make any sense at all? Or am I talking gibberish to you?”

“…No. I understand how you feel, I think.”

“Really?”

“When I was living a double life, I had moments like that, too. Late at night, while staring at my ceiling, unable to sleep, I’d start to second-guess my choices. I held myself together by telling myself, everything I did, I did for my revenge. So it didn’t matter if no one knew the real me, not even myself. But that was a lie. Sometimes, I don’t know how I survived that period of my life.”

Ren laughed faintly, little more than a breath. “That last part sounds familiar.”

“We both made it through a chaotic time, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you lonely?”

“…Sometimes.”

“Even with your crew?”

“No… Not exactly?” Ren paused, pursing his lips. “None of them see all of me. But all of them see different pieces of me. If you added them all together, they’ve seen the sum of me. I think. So I’m still at ease around them. They’re all good friends; if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be here today. You could say they’re my confidants.” He laughed a little, as if at a private joke. “But… there’s something missing. A piece of me I’ve lost. And I know I should still be ‘me,’ but there’s this constant disconnect and it drives me… Fuck. I’m drifting off-topic.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not, I—” He clamped his jaw shut; took a deep breath in through his nose, sighed it out. “Sorry. I don’t know how to express it well.”

“It’s fine,” Goro insisted quietly. “I don’t know how to explain all how I feel either. It frustrates me too. I’ve been told I’m well-spoken, but what good is eloquence if it doesn’t actually help you communicate?”

Ren laughed a little. He sounded a bit more at ease. “Yeah.”

“Tell me more about your loneliness.”

He combed his fingers through Goro’s hair. “I don’t feel lonely when I’m with you.”

Goro sucked in a little breath and held it. He pressed a hand to Ren’s chest.

“So when you’re afraid, I’m afraid, too. Afraid you’ll reject me. Make me leave without you. It probably sounds absurd. Like you said before, we barely know each other. But still, I feel like you’re that piece I lost.”

“That… that _is_ absurd,” he said, heart pounding.

“Oh.”

“But it’s also very sweet.”

Warmer: “Oh.”

“When you were sick, and I was watching over you, I thought to myself I wanted to know everything about you. Learn the mystery about you, then unravel it bit by bit.” He traced lines down to Ren’s stomach, up to his side. “But if I did that, I think… _I’d_ grow bored. So--it’s okay if I don’t know everything about you.”

“Yeah?”

“I might just be kidding myself,” Goro admitted with a little laugh. “But if you’ll really have me, knowing what I’ve done, I…”

“There’s things about me I really should tell you. Things I haven’t told you yet. You’re sure?”

“Then tell me now.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Why?”

“If I tell you, you might want nothing to do with me anymore.”

Goro burst out laughing.

Offended: “What?”

“That’s exactly what I thought about you at first. I thought for certain, once you knew who and what I am, you’d be revolted. And now here we are.”

He laughed too as he slipped an arm around Goro’s waist. “Okay. Fair.”

“If there’s something you need to tell me that you’re worried about, tell me in the morning. Or some other morning.” Goro nuzzled him and shut his eyes. As much for his own sake as for his lover’s, he said, “There’s nothing wrong with letting ourselves enjoy this moment while it lasts, Ren.”

Ren stroked his skin. It felt so nice—almost as nice as being able to reassure him. “…Yeah.”

Once more, they fell silent. Once more, Goro was halfway to slumber when Ren spoke up again:

“Goro?”

“Mm?”

Fingers caressed his back, tracing his spine up to the cherished chain around his neck. “Just wanted to say your name.”

He clucked his tongue and chuckled without opening his eyes. “Go to sleep, idiot.”

“‘K.”

This time, they drifted off for real.


	10. The News

_PIRATE ATTACKS IN TOKYO BAY,_ the headline read.

_This must be what Sae-san was talking about,_ Goro thought as he munched on his morning toast. Partway through the stack of newspapers, he’d found this dubious gem. At least he’d finally have somewhat more of a grasp on what this was all about. He read on.

The article described a series of attacks by the pirate gang known as the Phantoms, who flew the flag of the fiery top hat (Goro smiled again to himself) and preyed exclusively on imperial ships. They’d first appeared several months back, and so far, they’d made off with millions of yen in gold, jewels, fabrics, fine art, furniture, and other treasures. They’d also stolen more mundane things such as food, medicine, and blankets. Rumors apparently abounded about the Phantoms re-selling this wealth at enormous mark-ups to the unfortunate poor, but the article writer had been unable to find someone who had encountered them. (Goro rolled his eyes at this.)

“Whatcha reading?” Ren asked then.

Goro lowered the paper to see him watching him, surprisingly serious-faced, from across the counter. Over the week since he’d come here, they’d fallen into a habit of eating at the counter, Goro sitting and Ren standing, even though there was a chair at the dining table. Goro had even pointed out that he didn’t need to do that, but Ren had insisted he wanted to. It made him happy, so he let him. He liked being able to look at him through breakfast, too.

“A remarkably poorly-researched piece about the so-called Phantoms,” he replied.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Half of what it says is hearsay and rumor. Disgraceful,” Goro shook his head, half-smiling in wry amusement despite his words. These days, filled with conversation both light and serious, and that night of pillow talk, had improved his mood in a thousand ways.

“Can I read it when you’re done?”

Goro smiled at him, though Ren seemed displeased. “Certainly.” He returned his attention to the article, which stated there was a hunt for buyers of the Phantoms’s stolen goods in the hopes that it would lead back to the rogues, though no promising leads had been found yet. The article broke off there; Goro turned the pages until he reached the continuation.

_One fact known about the Phantoms is the name of their ship, the S.S. Mona,_ it read. _Another is their leader, Captain Joker—_

Goro sucked in a breath.

“What’s wrong?” Ren asked, still watching him.

“It’s… it’s nothing,” he replied, unsettled. ‘Joker’ was hardly an unusual pseudonym. It had to be a coincidence.

_…_ _Captain Joker,_ _who wears a_ _black long-coat and a_ _top hat_ _feathered to resemble flames_ _. Survivors of his raids report that he commands a type of demon called a Persona, which manifests from_ _an individual’s mind rather than the collective unconsciousness_ _._ _Unlike the orderly DS Apps, which can be used by any lawful citizen after applying for and receiving a government-issued license and summoning device to summon approved demons, Personas cannot be regulated, leading to dangerous and violent behavior by their Users…_

Goro skimmed the rest and set the paper down. The article’s remainder babbled more anti-Persona propaganda and then went out about how the capture of the Phantoms was a top priority of the Tokyo Military Police Department, but that wasn’t what sent goosebumps crawling up his back. Originally he’d thought a flag bearing a flaming top hat sounded ridiculous; after reading that description, he realized he recognized it, and his guts twisted accordingly. A Persona-User who went by the name Joker… Could it be—?

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” Ren pressed, interrupting his thoughts. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He looked up at him. Ren’s concerned expression, along with his turn of phrase, made him plaster on a smile by reaction. “I suppose this news about those pirates has me disturbed,” he lied. “One never knows when they might decide to sail up and raid this lighthouse.”

Ren bowed his head. Then he sucked in a breath and squared his shoulders, expression steely. “Let me see that.”

Goro handed him the newspaper. Ren read the article with a silent scowl. It deepened after he flipped to the back half. Then he folded it up and tossed it on the counter with a low _tch_. “You can tell this publisher’s in the Emperor’s pocket. They can’t stop trashing Persona Users. For one thing, it’s totally untrue that the Phantoms scalp the poor with those stolen goods. They give it away. For free.”

“That is what ‘giving things away’ usually means,” Goro said dryly. “And what are _your_ sources on that claim?”

“Personal experience,” Ren replied, expression stony.

Goro stiffened. “You’ve met them?”

“Yes.”

The stool scraped on the floor as he stood, hands slapping on the counter. “Did you meet their captain? The man who calls himself Joker?”

Ren paused. “Why?”

“He’s…” His shoulders sank; he bowed his head. “Never mind. There was—someone with that nickname during my… during the war. But that man died.” He clutched his forehead with one hand. “I’m sorry. I’m letting myself get paranoid. It’s as likely that he’s the Joker from back then as it is he’s the Joker from urban legend.”

“Joker _is_ a pretty common callsign,” Ren agreed, but his tone remained level and stony. He picked up his coffee mug and stared into it. “Hypothetically speaking, though, if this ‘Captain Joker’ _was_ that guy from the war, what would you do?”

“What would I do?” he echoed. “I… I don’t know. It’s impossible, anyway. But… hypothetically, if it were… in that case…” He averted his gaze. “I would rather not meet him.”

“Oh.” Then: “Why not?”

“It would just be… awkward. After all—” _I murdered him._ “—we were on opposite sides.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” He paused. “Hey, Goro?”

“What?”

“What d’you think about the Phantoms?”

“They’re criminals. What else is there to think?”

“You’re a criminal too,” Ren pointed out.

“Yes. I am a criminal. And I’m serving my time for it,” he said coldly. “Is that supposed to make me _more_ sympathetic to a boatful of marauding thieves?”

“…Apparently not. They’re more than just thieves, though.”

“Whatever they are, they’re still criminals.”

Ren frowned. “Goro. Do you just not see any nuance between different crimes and criminals?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I understand that there are different levels of criminal activity. Even murder has different classifications depending on the intent behind it. But conceding that piracy is not as grave a crime as murder is _not_ a justification for piracy. Besides which, even if you’re right and the Phantoms _do_ give their ill-gotten goods away to the poor, they’re still attacking ships and stealing people’s livelihoods from them. The Imperial government may be corrupt, but that doesn’t mean so is everyone who works for it. Most of them are just little people trying to eke out a living in a fascist regime. Do you think, when they limp back home after a pirate attack, that His Imperial Majesty’s goons lets them off with a simple, ‘Oh, that’s too bad’? _Someone_ has to take responsibility. And since the Phantoms aren’t available, it inevitably ends up being someone who gets crushed by it.” Goro barked out a clipped, humorless laugh. “Wouldn’t it be something, if the Phantoms ended up handing out charity to those they burgled in the first place!”

Ren’s frown deepened. “It’s not like that. The Phantoms aren’t that sloppy,” he protested quietly. “They’re careful about which ships they target.”

“And how would you know _that_?”

He looked away.

“You don’t. And you can’t,” Goro concluded. “I won’t tell you what to think, Ren, but I would appreciate it if you’d at least keep your disgusting criminal-worship to yourself.”

Ren shot him a glare. Abruptly, Goro felt a pang of guilt for his harshness. While he stood by the sentiment, the phrasing left much to be desired. Ren didn’t deserve to get talked to like that.

“I’m sorry,” he thus added. “That was out of line.”

“It’s fine,” he murmured. “Apology accepted.”

Goro pursed his lips. Ren still seemed upset. This time, he stopped to analyze why. He’d said he’d met the Phantoms before… If so, and if he had a good opinion of them, they must have come to his aid somehow at some point. Of course. Stupid, stupid, stupid—how long had it taken him to put that together? That was elementary. How had he ever fancied himself a detective? Disgraceful.

Except—was that really all there was to it?

_There’s things about me you don’t know yet that I should tell you._

_Five years is five years! Though this was closer to seven years ago._

_Believe it or not, I used to work in a caf_ _é_ _…_

Goro covered his mouth with one hand. It couldn’t be. Their demeanors were completely different: one arrogant and playful and almost always smiling, the other quiet, withdrawn, almost never smiling. But Goro knew well how one could split one’s own personality while leading a double life. And now that he let himself remember, they had the same dark, curly hair, the same intense, stormy eyes…

_I don’t need to everything about you,_ he’d told Ren. God. He really had been kidding himself.

Keeping his voice even, Goro said, “Let’s change the subject. It’s clear neither of us enjoy the current one, after all.”

“Okay.”

“You happened to wash up on my doorstep the day of my birthday, June 2nd. I’ve been wondering, when is yours?”

Ren relaxed. “My birthday? September 15th. Why? You planning on getting me a present?”

Goro maintained his poker smile. Inside, his entire body clenched. _That’s the same day—a_ _nd they’re the same age_ _._ “Perhaps, if you’re still here by then.”

Ren grinned. “Well, damn, now I’ll have to make sure of it.”

He bowed his head and criss-crossed his fingers. “It’ll be hard to come up with something, though. You seem like the kind of man who has everything.”

“I wouldn’t say _everything_. And you can always make something unique.” Ren leaned on the counter and brushed his hand along Goro’s hair. “I’d love for you to write me a story, for example.”

Goro’s thoughts stuttered, and he met Ren’s eyes. His smile was so warm, so affectionate… It cast uncertainty on the conclusions he’d begun to draw. _I was never a real detective. Maybe I’m trying to f_ _orc_ _e connections where there are only coincidences,_ he thought, averting his gaze. _If they were one and the same, he’d never look at me like that…_

“It can be about anything,” Ren added, perhaps misinterpreting his gesture. “Though you already know the genres I like best.”

He leaned into Ren’s touch. “I’ll… try to think of something.” He paused, then lightened his tone. “Should I make sure to write in big letters?”

“What? Why?”

He affected a coy smile. “Oh, the way you stare so hard at me sometimes, I wondered if you might have vision problems.”

Ren grinned and laughed. “You little shit! I’ll have you know my vision is 20/20.”

Relief flooded Goro. “Is it now?” he teased, his smile now genuine. If Ren didn’t need glasses, they couldn’t be the same person. It was just a coincidence after all. “Then I wonder what your excuse for your constant ogling is?”

“You got me. The truth is, since I met you, I’ve gone half-blind,” Ren joked as he pulled Goro closer. “Totally preventable condition, but what can I do? I just can’t help staring at the sun.”

Goro giggled, mind buzzing with pleasure as he met Ren halfway for a kiss. They lingered, parted, and met again. This cycle repeated at various locations until the two of them found themselves on the couch, panting and disheveled, kimonos askew.

“You’re insatiable,” Goro whispered.

“As if you weren’t egging me on the whole time,” Ren murmured back before nipping his neck.

Goro arched underneath him with a gasp. “Really, it’s far—far too early in the morning for this…”

Ren pulled his kimono off his shoulder and trailed more kisses down his neck. “D’you want me to stop?” he murmured in between them.

“Mmnh…”

“Well…?”

“I’m thinking it over.”

Ren laughed, low and sultry, and nipped him hard. “You beautiful tease.”

A shiver coursed through Goro’s body. “T-takes one to…” Fuck. How did the rest of it go? Ren had such a talent for blowing the coherence right out of his brain.

Ren laughed again. This time, though, when he tried to resume his trail of kisses, Goro pressed a hand to his chest and gently pushed him back. Ren obeyed his silent request, moving back to give him space to sit up too.

“Something the matter?” he wondered.

Goro shook his head and pulled him closer. Ren all but spilled himself into his lap. “Tell me more about the Phantoms.”

He blinked. “Uh, what?”

Goro rested his head on Ren’s shoulder. “You were right. I’m judging them based on my own prejudices. If you have firsthand experience with them, it would be wiser for me to listen to you than make snap judgments based on preconceived notions.”

“Oh!” He could _feel_ Ren’s demeanor warm. “Well… they’re good people. All very friendly and kind . Wouldn’t want to cross them in a fight, though. Rowdy bunch, but, you know. Pirates. ” He quirked a half-smile. “They’ve gotta live up to the stereotype _somewhere_.”

“And they really do give their stolen goods away to the poor?”

“Yup.”

He sighed a little. “How noble of them.”

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment, the way you say it.”

“It _is_ a compliment. The way I said it was simply colored by my prejudices.”

“Oh?”

“I suppose… I’m a little frustrated. Are you familiar with the legend of Robin Hood?”

“Nope.”

“Put succinctly, he’s a British folklore hero—a noble rogue who steals from the rich and gives to the poor.”

“ _Ah_. I think I get you. You’re mad because the Phantoms are what you weren’t.”

Goro winced and pulled away. “I wouldn’t say I’m _mad_ , but…”

“But it’s a bull’s-eye anyway,” Ren concluded.

“Mmh.”

Ren smiled. “Maybe you could join them, then.”

Goro met his gaze. He seemed to mean it. But then, if he were the captain of the Phantoms, which was completely separate from if he were his old rival, he would, wouldn’t he? “I don’t know about that…”

“It would really piss off your daa-aad,” he sing-sang.

He burst out laughing. “God! How did you become such a master of the persuasive arts?”

Ren grinned, eyes sparkling. “I just have a naturally indomitable spirit.”

“And so you simply overwhelm others with your force of personality? I’m almost irritated by how well it’s working.”

“But only almost, right?”

Goro smirked and combed his fingers through Ren’s hair. “Apparently I can’t resist a pretty face, either.”

“Damn, you _can_ flirt!” he uttered, delighted. “I knew you had it in you!”

“Of course. You’re the one who put it in me,” he purred—then mentally paused. His thumb had brushed against a coarse spot of skin near Ren’s left temple, hidden under his bangs. It was too flat to be a mole. A birthmark? A scar?

“Flirting _and_ dirty jokes. Hot damn,” Ren crowed, distracting him. “Now I’ve just _gotta_ reward you…”

The kisses that followed pushed everything else out of mind. What was a scar or two between their checkered pasts, anyhow?

* * *

That night, they resumed signaling for Ren’s ship. After a week with no response, Goro wasn’t expecting much, but it made Ren happy to try. He wondered what his crew would do if they really had assumed he’d perished in the storm. Had they already thrown him a funeral? Did they miss him now that he was gone? (Had anyone missed _him_ after he’d gone? Goro had never asked Sae and Sae had never brought it up. Wondering always made him uneasy.) Though he was tempted to, he didn’t ask Ren what he’d do if his crew never came for him. There was little he _could_ do.

Instead, they chatted as they did almost all the time now—sometimes bickering, sometimes debating, sometimes agreeing, always enjoying. After a while, Goro fetched the chess board, and they played a couple of games as the light signals flickered out into the gloom. Ren told him stories about tropical vistas like the Philippines and the Caribbean, and Goro told him about other typhoons he’d weathered, and then they had a rousing debate on the best way to weather a typhoon and if it was better to do so on land or at sea. They were both so engrossed in talking and playing that neither of them noticed at first when light signals flickered back at them.

But when Ren did…

“It’s them!!” He got up so fast he knocked the board over, scattering the pieces. Goro made a sound of dismay, but Ren only raced over to the signal controls. “Oh, sorry,” he threw over his shoulder as an afterthought, stare rooted on the flashing lights in the distance.

Goro stooped to pick up the board and pieces. He bit back his irritation; this was a good thing for both of them. Fortunately, he had the layout memorized. “Are you sure it’s them? What’s the message?” he asked as he recreated the last play.

Ren didn’t respond at first. Goro wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard him. Then he busied himself with the controls to send a new message back. Once Robin Hood’s light adjusted to it, Ren slumped into a chair and stared into space. It wheeled slowly around until he faced Goro, at which point he leaped to his feet and grabbed Goro by the waist.

“Oh—!” he uttered. Once again, chess pieces clattered all over the floor, though at least the board itself didn’t fall too. Goro looked down, then fixed Ren with an exasperated frown. “ _Ren_.”

“Whoops. Sorry, didn’t mean to,” he said, grinning sheepishly. At least this time, he helped him pick everything up. “I’m just—damn! I’m so excited!” He shone a bright smile at him. “I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone! With all our heads put together, we’ll figure out a way to get that damn chain off you in no time!”

Goro paused in setting the pieces back again. Ren, however, had already returned his attention to the ship on the horizon. After a few minutes of watching messages and returning them, he beamed back.

“They’re going to weigh anchor for tonight and come over in the morning.” He grabbed Goro’s hands between his own. “It’s really happening!! You’re finally gonna say good-bye to this godawful lighthouse!”

Goro smiled awkwardly and tried to ignore the flutter of anxiety in his chest.


	11. The Crew

Sure enough, come sunrise, the boat on the horizon sailed in the rest of the way. Goro had decided to do his morning chores last night so he’d be ready for company. Even so, his heart kept racing like he was having palpitations. Sharing a shower with Ren helped a little, but once they’d dried off and gotten dressed in their respective normal outfits, it was right back to feeling slightly nauseous.

 _Damn it. I used to be good at this._ _This used to be_ easy _._ _What’s wrong with me?_

Once the ship came close enough, what looked like the entire crew crowded the deck, cheering and shouting as Ren leaned over the lighthouse upper balcony railing to wave his hand over his head in greeting. Goro watched from the doorway as he spoke to them.

 _They really do love him,_ he thought, and clutched the metal and glass.

“…but really, I wouldn’t have made it out alive if not for someone I want you all to meet!” Ren turned around then and held out a hand to Goro. His smile was as warm and brilliant as the daybreak. Goro tentatively took it, and he pulled him close and wrapped an arm around his waist. “This is Goro!”

The crew’s collective focus locked on to him. Goro froze up. Even being in Ren’s arms couldn’t counter the sudden pressure of everyone looking at him, _staring_ at him, judging him, waiting for him to make some kind of mistake they could pounce on. His heart raced; his mind f roze ; his knees b uckl ed; his words stuck in his throat like a fish bone . He knew he had to do something, say something, _anything_ , but he couldn’t. Why hadn’t he expected this? Why hadn’t he practiced in the mirror? He knew he would be meeting new people today! He knew it wouldn’t be anything like Sae’s crew, who never looked at him or spoke to him or expected anything of him! Now they’d all think he was a fool, and they were _right_ , he was _s_ tupid, so stupid, stupid, stupid—

A shrill scream cut through his downward spiral. Everyone’s attention shifted, and it broke the spell upon him. He sought the source and saw a woman with short brown hair, wearing a double-breasted, dark blue coat with gold buttons up and down each side. It would make her look like military if there weren’t a conspicuous lack of any military insignias, if her shoulder guards weren’t metal spikes, and if she weren’t wearing decidedly non-standard steel knuckles over gray gloves, reinforced by rods and coils jointing at the wrist and reaching almost to the elbow. Long, pleated gray pants covered thick-soled boots, creating a look both serious and straightforward.

She herself, however, gawked at him with doggy whale-eyes, taking step by step back with shaking legs. She looked familiar. She looked like…

He hurled himself onto the railing. “ _You_!!” he uttered to, of all people, Sae’s sister, Makoto.

“ _Y_ _ou_ ?!” she squeaked back . “You’re—you’re _alive_!”

Half an hour later, Makoto and a small selection of the crew were standing in Goro’s dining area with him and Ren behind the kitchenette counter. Even with only a few of them here, he still felt light-headed with nerves. He had barely any seats to offer them, no snacks or drinks prepared, he had nothing in the way of entertainment—it was an absolute nightmare. If Ren hadn’t been there to be their focus, he might have gone entirely to pieces. He was the one who put on a record to play some lively jazz, set out glasses of water for everyone, and encouraged folks to stand. Goro was left grateful as well as ashamed. This was his home; he was supposed to be the host. How utterly incompetent of him…

It didn’t help that Makoto kept staring at him like he was a ghost. He supposed there was no helping that, though, especially since:

“I _saw_ you die,” she insisted.

“I don’t think you did,” he said wearily, even as he half-hid behind Ren.

“The execution was public! They brought you up to the hanging platform and they…” Makoto trailed off. Then she bowed her head.

“That sure is weird,” said one of the crew members, a foreign-looking woman with long, blonde hair tied up in pigtails. She wore an off-shoulder, off-white top that laced in front and had ruffles on the ends of sleeves that reached halfway between her elbow and wrist. Over the shirt and around her torso, she wore a black corset that supported her chest and laced in back. A bright red, richly patterned silk sheet looped over her chest, around her neck, under her corset, and flared over her behind and thighs in a skirt-like sash that draped down her left and cut high on her right, probably so the whip she had belted there wouldn’t catch on anything. Underneath, tight black pants tucked into knee-high lace-up boots. She had a vivacious manner and an infectious smile; Goro suspected she was Ann, the so-called heart of the crew. “Are you _s_ _ure_ this is the same guy, Makoto?”

“I… I’m not sure,” Makoto said, staring again at Goro, her expression now uncertain. “He had a blindfold on, and he was gagged, but he was the same height, had the same hair and clothes…”

“Obviously not _exactly_ the same,” Goro mumbled.

“Maybe they set up a body double. A lookalike,” Ren suggested.

Another crew member, this one tall and handsome with a katana at his hip, made a face. “To think that the Emperor would have an innocent man killed to hide his deception… There is no beauty in such a vile act.”

The art maniac… Right. This one had to be Yusuke. Short, dark blue hair draped over one side of his fine features, accenting his serious, focused eyes. He wore a martial arts gi, mostly navy blue with thick off-white leather sewn over the shoulders for some reason. It tucked into black hakama, pleated so perfectly he had to have learned how to fold them from a master swordsman, which in turn commented favorably on his actual combat skills. Oddly, a large, fluffy white tail tied with red ribbon hung from the back of his black belt, creating the illusion that he had a tail. His long sleeves were kept in check by a white tasuki, wrapped around his shoulders and tied at his back. Bright blue gloves covered his long, delicate fingers, and he wore geta on his otherwise bare feet.

“I wholeheartedly agree! Having Shido as emperor brings down the whole country,” the last crew mate sniffed. There was no question this one was Morgana. After all, he was a literal talking cat. If that weren’t enough of a clue, he wore a yellow bandanna and collar from which hung a tag reading ‘MORGANA.’ Mostly black with a white muzzle, paws, ear tufts, and tail tip, and eyes a shockingly vivid shade of blue, he sat on the counter as his tail twitched back and forth. “That said, it’s certain he pulled some tricks, like falsifying the paperwork and sending in a different man—probably another inmate—to die in Goro’s place. If his stand-in was about the same height and build, a wig and familiar clothing could have created the rest of the illusion, while a blindfold and gag would keep anyone who actually knew him from noticing the deception.” He peered at Goro, nose sniffing the air. “I can’t help but be curious why he’d bother, though.”

 _Curios_ _ity killed_ _t_ _he_ _cat,_ Goro thought, and buried his face in Ren’s shoulder to hide an inappropriate smile.

“Well, he’s the Exiled Prince,” Ren said, unperturbed.

Makoto went, somehow, even paler. “Th-that g-g-g-ghost story?!”

“Clearly no ghost story at all,” Morgana pointed out, tail flicking back and forth.

Yusuke’s expression was darker for some reason, somehow angered, somehow pained, as he looked Goro over with clenched hands. “Do you mean to say he is the Emperor’s son?”

“Yup.”

“For real?” Ann leaned in uncomfortably close to Goro. “That’s awful. I can’t believe your own dad locked you up in a place like this!”

“Not only that, it seems like he really wanted everyone to think you were dead,” Makoto said, still sounding unsettled and uncertain. At least she was regaining some color.

That made sense. If he were thought dead, no one would come looking for him—and the secrets he kept. Goro’s eyelids drooped as he clutched Ren’s back.

“W-well, hey! Look on the bright side! This way, once you’re out of here, you’re free as a bird!” Ann cheered, spreading her arms. “They can’t come arrest a dead guy, right?”

That _did_ cheer him up a little, even if her logic was flawed. Goro straightened and gave her a wan smile. “Thank you,” he said politely.

Makoto pursed her lips. “Have you… really been here this whole time?”

 _Have_ you _really been sailing with pirates?_ he wondered silently. “I’m a little surprised you didn’t know. Sae-san’s the one who’s been tending to me each month.”

Makoto stiffened; her face went pale again. “S-sis has? Wait—what do you mean, each month?”

Hm. A curious reaction. It gave Goro something to focus on, so he mulled it over as he explained his situation: that he was imprisoned here, that a transport ship brought him supplies once a month at the beginning of each month, and so on. He closed with, “You weren’t aware?”

She looked away. “I… We haven’t been in touch in… a while.”

Goro glanced at the rest of the crew. They didn’t look any happier, but they didn’t look surprised, either. “I see.” He paused. “Should I… not mention that I saw you?”

Makoto looked up in surprise. “What? Why would you mention this at all?”

That was a good question, now that she brought it up. It probably wouldn’t be wise to tell Sae that he’d been cavorting with—strangers, pirates, people who wanted to bust him out; take his pick. Still: “This lighthouse might be under watch. If so, then trying to hide the fact that a ship approached and people paid a visit would only backfire.”

Ren startled. “You think so?”

“It may not look like it, but this _is_ supposed to be a jail,” Goro pointed out. “If it were me, I would at least keep a courtesy watch… just in case.”

“We shouldn’t linger, in that case,” Yusuke said.

Ren frowned. Then he nodded. “Let’s take a look at that chain.”

They all moved to the living area. Goro sat on the couch with Yusuke on his left and Makoto on his right. Ann brought over a chair to sit, and Morgana perched on the end of the coffee table, which they all moved to make room for Ren to kneel before Goro. He smiled up at him, and Goro couldn’t help but smile back. Gently, Ren took his left foot in hand. Though he took care not to touch the chain directly, his hands around the manacle send a shudder up his spine.

“Hmm. Unusual,” Yusuke commented, leaning in for a better look. “May I?” Then, without actually waiting for permission, he picked up the chain.

Goro hissed and gasped, shoulders seizing up from the sudden contact. The manacle burned cold. “Please put it down,” he gasped.

“Hey, are you okay, Goro?” Ann asked, eyebrows furrowing.

Fortunately, Yusuke did as requested, so Goro could give her a weak nod.

Makoto’s eyebrows furrowed too, but for a different reason. Hand on her chin, she asked, “Did you just have a physical reaction to the chain being touched?”

Goro nodded again.

“Truly? How strange,” Yusuke said, eyebrows going up. “I sincerely apologize. What is this chain made of?”

“Gleipnir,” Goro said.

He gaped. “ _Truly_?”

“No. I was joking.”

“Ah.” And for some reason, Yusuke looked disappointed.

“Even if it isn’t that legendary metal, it sure seems unusual,” Morgana commented. He hopped down and approached the manacle with a cautious sniff. He tapped it once, soft and brief, with one paw; Goro flinched and cringed. “And you say it extends endlessly, except for when you try to leave your prison?”

Goro nodded, sharp and terse.

“And it’s generated from that… engine, that uses your Persona as a power source?”

Another nod.

“Hmmm… Then I believe I know what this is.”

The others all crowded in, chorusing variations on “What, really?!” and “Tell us!”

Morgana waved a paw until everyone leaned back; then he cleared his throat into said paw. Goro reminded himself that he was supposedly a human cursed into cat form. “As you all know, some of the most powerful chains are the ones we bind ourselves with in our minds. This is a physical manifestation of that. The Persona generator, we’ll call it, converts Goro’s own feelings of guilt and culpability into a literal chain made real, then uses those same feelings to bring him pain when anyone encroaches on it.”

“Meaning… what?” Ann asked.

“Meaning as long as he thinks he deserves to be locked up here, this chain will keep him locked up here,” Morgana translated. “Trying to help will only make it worse, too. He needs to take down his own demons before anything we might do could have any meaningful positive effect.”

Ren frowned. “What if we break it by force?”

“I can’t imagine how agonizing that would be to Goro if even a light touch hurts him.”

Ren looked up at Goro. Goro pursed his lips and helplessly met his gaze. So, as usual, everything was his own fault.

“Why don’t we just make him feel better about himself, then?” Ann suggested brightly. “Like—cheer up, Goro! Come have fun adventures with us!”

“It would hardly be that simple,” Yusuke pointed out. “If people could overcome their own feelings with such ease, this wouldn’t be so effective.”

“Oh.” Ann leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. “So… then what?”

“A good question, Lady Ann. I suspect it’s all up to our new friend.” Morgana’s whiskers twitched, and he looked up at Goro. “Strange, though. You’d think a desire to escape would at least weaken it. Have you not ever wanted to leave this place?”

Goro felt his face heat and his heart lurch when everyone looked at him. It wasn’t as bad as earlier, with the entire crew, but the pressure was there and it laid heavy upon him. His tongue laid equally heavy in his mouth. How could he even respond to a question like that?

“What’re you locked up in here for, anyway?” Ann asked then.

“Serial murder,” Goro said distantly.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth. “ _Yikes_.”

Makoto pursed her lips as she watched him askance. Her silence was profound.

Yusuke furrowed his brows. “Not that I’d be surprised to learn they were more of the Emperor’s falsehoods, but I thought the so-called Exiled Prince had committed war crimes?”

“He did,” Ren said, “if you count ‘being a soldier’ as ‘war crimes.’ And ‘being in the way’ and ‘knowing too much’ as ‘war crimes.’”

Goro blinked down at Ren as Yusuke made a long, low sound of understanding. A soldier? He hadn’t been a _soldier_. He forced a low chuckle and glanced away as he brushed his hair back. “That’s an entirely too gracious interpretation of what I’ve done.”

Ren gazed up at him, fingertips brushing the curves of his ankle.

Makoto frowned as she looked back and forth between them. Then she stood up. “Goro… kun, could I speak with you privately for a moment, please?”

“What? Oh.” He stood. “If you wish.”

She strode to the kitchen. He followed her, carefully stepping around furniture to keep his chain from getting caught on anything. When they were both inside the kitchenette, she turned to him with folded arms and a mighty scowl.

Voice low, she demanded, “What are you plotting?”

“What?” he uttered, rocking back a half-step. “I’m not plotting anything.”

“You and I both know you were never a soldier, _Akechi-kun_. Why did you lie?” Her eyes narrowed, and she unfolded her arms to clench her hands. “If you’re out to get him—”

“I never told him that,” he interrupted, frowning in irritation. “He assumed that on his own.”

“And you never corrected him.”

“I didn’t know he thought that until literally just now.”

“Oh.” She paused, expression momentarily torn. Then her shoulders sagged a little. “…Sorry. I assumed.”

As much as he would have liked to have given her a pointed jab, Goro chose to hold back and simply sigh. “As long as we’re here, may I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Does Sae-san know you’re a pirate?”

She winced. “No. And I’d rather keep it that way.”

 _Fuck._ Goro shut his eyes. So they were the Phantoms after all. Which meant Ren was indeed Captain Joker, which meant… No. No, Ren said himself that Joker was a common callsign.

But—

He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and looked back at Makoto. “What _does_ she know about you?”

“What do you care? It’s none of your business,” she replied, radiating discomfort through her hunched shoulders, tightening arm-fold, and averted eyes.

“…I suppose not.” He gazed over at Ren. Ren and Ann had joined Yusuke on the couch, and they were chatting and laughing about something. Yusuke seemed intrigued, or at least attentive, to whatever Ren was saying. Maybe he was suggesting painting a mural inside the lighthouse, as he’d suggested to Goro. “So what is Ren’s relation to Kurusu-kun?”

That startled her into staring back at him. “What?”

“Akira Kurusu-kun. The boy from Leblanc. Do you not remember him? He went to your school, I believe.”

Makoto’s arms dropped to her sides as she stared at him for far longer than was comfortable. She pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes troubled. “Oh. So then…” A pause. Then she shook her head quickly, like a dog. “Th-they’re—cousins. On his mother’s side. I believe.”

Goro folded his arms and held his chin. That made sense, but… Makoto had never been a good liar, and instinct pinged him to the thought she was lying now. Yet he couldn’t see what part of that _would_ be a lie. It explained why Ren and Kurusu-kun looked so similar yet had totally different personalities, and why they had similar-seeming backgrounds. Maybe instead—

Goro cleared his throat. “Does… Ren hold a grudge over him…?”

Makoto gave him a concerned look he didn’t like. It hewed far too close to pity. Eventually she shook her head. “It’s not my place to discuss this. You should ask him directly.”

 _I’m afraid to,_ he didn’t say. Instead, he simply nodded.

“…Just to be sure,” she added, “what’s he told you about himself?”

“He was a rebel during the war. He’s a Wild Card. He captains a ship that he technically never specified was a _pirate_ ship, but I read between the lines. And various other things. He’s also said that there’s things about himself he hasn’t told me for fear I’d judge him harshly.” He smiled a faint, ironic smile. “So I haven’t pushed too hard to make him share.”

Makoto’s lips thinned. “And what’ve you told him about you?”

“Quite a bit, actually. Not everything, but enough to make most reasonable men leave in disgust.” He gazed back at him. “…Yet he absolutely insists he wants me to join the crew.”

She blinked rapidly at him. “What? Why?”

At first, Goro intended to keep it to himself. However, the answer brought so much joy bubbling up inside that it couldn’t help but lift his lips into a smile. “He loves me,” he murmured, caressing the necklace above his collarbone.

Naturally, Makoto ruined it by curling her lip in revulsion, like she’d swallowed curdled milk.

“Yes, I know we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks,” he added testily. “Trust me, I pointed that out to him several times.” He softened. “But he insists.”

Her expression shifted. He didn’t like the dismay that overtook it any better. After giving his necklace a long look, she fixed him with a worried stare. “Does he know who you are?”

“Yes. I told him.”

“Does he _really_ know, Akechi-kun?”

Goro opened his mouth; shut it. He remembered Ren asking about the Black Mask, and how he’d dodged the question. He knew he’d left out details like his full name. He’d told him he’d been a detective, but would he have recognized him as Goro Akechi from just that? Ren apparently had misunderstood what he’d told him and thus his role in the war, so… He clutched his arms to his chest and looked away. “We don’t need to know everything about each other,” he murmured. “He and I agreed to that.”

She covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh. I see.”

He waited for her to call him out. She didn’t. At length, he took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Is that all you wanted to discuss, Niijima-san?”

“Yes. I suppose so.” She turned her now-troubled gaze to Ren. “If that’s what you two agreed on… I’ll keep out of it.” She paused. “By the way… just Makoto is fine. Nobody calls me Niijima anymore. And I’ll… call you Goro?”

He gave her a long look of his own. Then he nodded once. “All right.”

She met his gaze. A certain understanding passed between them—or maybe it was all in his head. Eventually, she nodded back. “Let’s head back, then.”


	12. The Chain (Gleipnir)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I successfully finished this year's NaNoWriMo! Have a new chapter to celebrate.

Goro and Makoto returned to the others. Makoto took the chair that Ann had left, and Goro sat on the edge of his bed. Ren gave him a long, lingering look, but didn’t get up to join him. Goro was both relieved and disappointed.

Morgana nodded to the two of them. “So, what’s our game plan for the time being?”

“We need to figure out how to get rid of that chain,” Ren said. “If the generator’s what’s making it real, would taking it apart make it vanish?”

Goro tensed.

“Hmmm… It’s possible,” Morgana said, paw curled at his chin. “But if it’s sealing in one of Goro’s Personas, it’s also possible destroying the generator haphazardly could cause him psychological harm.”

“And if it _doesn’t_ dispel the chain, Goro-kun will be left with no power or water,” Makoto added. “I think we should save that for a last resort.”

“Right, but I meant what if we disassemble it,” Ren said.

She shook her head. “We don’t know how it was built or how delicate its instruments are. Without schematics, I don’t know if it’s possible for us to disassemble it with skill.”

“Plus,” Morgana said, “if I were Emperor Shido, I would keep the blueprints for such a valuable piece of technology under lock and key. Not that we couldn’t storm his palace or wherever he keeps it if we needed to, but I agree with Makoto. We should consider our other options first.”

Ren frowned. “What other options do we have, then?”

Yusuke considered the question. “Hmm… Perhaps we could break the chain physically after all? Goro. How much pain can you endure?”

“Quite a significant amount, if I’m prepared for it. But I’m more used to chronic, ongoing, moderate amounts of pain, rather than one great, sharp burst.”

“Does the chain actually harm you?” Ann asked, tone worried. “Like, we wouldn’t be basically cutting your foot off with it, would we?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Though cutting my foot off _would_ be one way to be rid of it.”

“Woah now, that’s pretty extreme,” Ren said, eyebrows rising. “I don’t think we need to go _that_ far.”

“Oh, why not? You want me to join your crew. A peg leg would make me fit right in, wouldn’t it?” he joked.

The others laughed. Ren, however, stiffened and paled. After a moment, he averted his gaze with a rueful smile and scratched his head.

“…Yeah, true,” he murmured. “But it’s still pretty extreme.”

“I’d rather not saw my leg off either if I can help it,” Goro admitted. “I… suppose we can try experimenting with the chain. It’s only a dull throb when I handle it, but that may be because I’m used to being alone.”

Ren looked up. “Want me to try touching it again?”

“What?”

“We’ve gotten pretty used to each other this past week or so.” Ren ran a hand through his hair and licked his lips. “Maybe it won’t hurt this time…?”

The way he said that made Goro shiver from the sheer sensuality. “Well… it’s worth a try…”

Ren rose from the couch and crossed to the bed in a few slow, confident strides. Goro leaned back, arms behind him, until Ren stood over him. Their gazes lingered on each other, and a palpable electricity passed between them, making Goro’s hairs stand on end. Ren knelt down with grace, one knee back, and cradled Goro’s calf with both hands. Goro’s breath quickened, though keenly aware of their audience, he tried to mask it. At the same time, he couldn’t look away from Ren, who smiled as he caressed his skin, round and round in little circles, then down, down towards his manacle…

When Ren’s fingers reached it, Goro felt a sharp burst of sensation, not wholly unpleasant but still intense. He gasped and tensed, and the feeling worsened.

“Shhh,” Ren whispered, watching him. “It’s okay. Just relax.”

The reassurance eased him. As he relaxed, the pain abated. Ren smiled and curled his fingers around the links of the chain, slowly, one digit at a time. Goro shuddered. The intensity increased, but the pain didn’t—just a prickling all over his skin, like goosebumps.

“How’s that?” Ren whispered.

“It’s… i-it’s not so bad,” he whispered back. “I could get used to it.”

When Ren’s smile grew into a grin, Goro even thought he might come to enjoy it.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Ann groaned then, making him flinch. “Captain, can you stop for, like, two seconds?”

Goro felt his face flame, and he looked at the others to find Ann, Morgana, and even Makoto looking away or shielding their eyes. Morgana had outright folded his paws over his face… Only Yusuke still watched with a placid expression, and he blinked at Ann when she protested.

“They need to experiment with the chain, don’t they? It might take a while,” he said.

“Yusuke, that is _so_ not the point!”

Goro coughed into one hand. “A-anyway, it does seem as though, um…” Words abruptly failed him.

Fortunately, Ren let him go and sat next to him. The chain clattered on the floor—no, shimmered, like a line of tiny bells. Goro leaned into him, and Ren wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Looks like it might work out,” Ren announced with deep satisfaction.

“Oh boy,” Ann groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What?”

She pierced him with an arch look. “ _You_ know.”

Ren slipped his hand down to Goro’s waist and pulled him tighter. “I’ll have _you_ know I’m absolutely serious about him.”

Goro looked between the two of them. “By any chance, are the two of you exes?”

That startled everyone.

“Wow, got it in one!” Ann uttered, eyes wide. “How’d you know?”

“Call it a hunch,” he said stonily. Few times had he ever been less pleased to be right. “The moment Ren was well enough to speak, his first words were to hit on me.”

Makoto groaned. “ _Captain_.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s peak Ren all right,” Ann said, nodding once.

“I don’t flirt with _everybody_ ,” Ren protested.

“That’s true. A large part of the population is made up of children and the elderly,” Ann quipped.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said loftily. “Also, no offense, but that roast sounds awfully smart for you.”

“I can be smart!” Ann protested hotly. Her umbrage lasted three seconds before she admitted, “Yeah, I stole it from Morgana from one time when he was complaining about you.”

“ _L-Lady_ _Ann_!” Morgana yowled, ears folding back. “That was in confidence…!”

Goro, dangling from the cliff’s edge of a foul mood by a thread of amusement, folded his arms and legs. “So this is the crew that loves you?” he commented to Ren.

“They _adore_ me,” he insisted.

“Hey, remember the time the Captain tried to seduce Yusuke and Yusuke didn’t even notice?” Ann said.

Ren palmed his face with both hands. “Oh my god.”

Yusuke looked nonplussed. “What? I don’t recall this happening.”

Ann gave Goro a pointed look, underscored by a half-smile. “You see what I mean?”

It seemed that thread was stronger than he’d realized. Goro smiled back. “Hmmm, I don’t know. Perhaps I should hear the rest of this story to find out.”

“You don’t really _need_ to hear it,” Ren wheedled, tugging on his arm.

Goro palmed Ren’s face and pushed him away. “Oh, no, now I _definitely_ need to hear it.”

Ann cracked up. “You’re so funny, Goro!” She re-crossed her leans and leaned forward, demeanor eager. “Okay, so this all started after Ren was moping over getting dumped by his latest shore leave fling.”

“Was he now,” Goro said, eyeballing Ren.

He held up his hands defensively. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t get _dumped_ . Second of all, I wasn’t _moping_. Third of all, this is all a gross exaggeration and you shouldn’t listen to anything she says.”

“SO ANYWAY,” Ann continued, raising her voice to drown him out, “Yusuke tried to cheer him up with some line about how he was more beautiful when in good spirits--”

“Ahhh, this I remember,” Yusuke said, nodding once.

“--and somehow that knocked the Captain head over heels. Can you believe such a shameless flirt could get taken in by such a cheesy line?”

Yusuke gave her a nonplussed look. “I don’t understand. How is the truth ‘cheesy’?”

Ren clapped his hands and pointed at him. “You see? _That’s_ how. Yusuke’s always so sincere! That’s _sexy_ , _Ann_.”

“Is it now,” Goro deadpanned.

Ann folded her arms. “Uh huh.”

Yusuke stared. “Beg pardon?”

Ren jumped to his feet. “I don’t have to listen to this,” he announced loftily. “You guys can sit around and gossip if you want, but I’m out.” And then he flounced upstairs and out of sight.

“Awww, he’s embarrassed!” Ann chirped.

Goro, who had watched him go, looked at her. “Is he?”

Morgana flicked his tail. “Mmm… Well, he has a lot he ought to be embarrassed about, that’s for sure…”

Yusuke thumped a fist into his palm. “Ah! I see now. This was all a ruse to tease the Captain.” He all but sparkled as he smiled. “I knew I wouldn’t have missed something like that!”

Ann, Morgana, and even Makoto heaved a can-you-believe-this-guy sort of sigh. Goro covered a smile with one hand. This long and tight-knit history of which he had no part gave him mixed feelings, but Yusuke’s obliviousness was at least genuinely funny.

“So what happened next?” Goro prompted Ann.

“Oh!” She brightened and rested her hands on her knee. “So the Captain was all, ‘So Yusuke, how about I pose nude for you,’ and Yusuke being the _least_ sexual human being in the history of human beings, was all, ‘Ah, yes, excellent, I love painting nude people, it’s so important for learning anatomy!’”

“Well, it is,” Yusuke said, affronted. “And on top of having always supported my pursuit of true beauty, the Captain has an excellent physique. Any artist would jump at the chance to paint him nude.”

Ann spread her arms in a shrug and shook her head. “See what I mean?”

Goro laughed into his hand. “That must have been hilarious for you to watch.”

She laughed too, leaning back. “It really was an amazing disaster, yeah!”

“It was stressful at the time, but looking back, it _was_ rather funny,” Makoto said.

“Most of Ren’s romances are like that,” Morgana remarked.

Goro brushed a lock of his hair back in an attempt to affect casualness. “…So he really does have a string of lovers, then?”

“Mmm, yes and no,” Ann replied. “He gets really intense and passionate and involved for a little while, and then something happens that makes it not work out, and he sulks for a little bit, then he gets over it, and then he finds someone else and the cycle starts all over again. For all his flirting, he’s not _trying_ to be a rake? He’s always serious at the time. He just can’t figure out what he wants.”

Goro tugged his hair taut. “…Ah.”

“But he does seem to genuinely like you,” she added. “Even if you two don’t work out as a couple, you can still be friends. He’s really good about that.”

He paused to stare at her. “Is that why you told me all this?”

Ann nodded. “Ren really is a good guy. It’s easy to fall in love with him—trust me, I know.”

“Most of the crew knows,” Makoto added dryly.

Ann snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, no kidding.” Her gaze turned sympathetic as she looked back at Goro. “So if it doesn’t work out… don’t feel too bad, okay? It’s not you.”

He considered this. “How do you know he does indeed like me?”

“You said he wants you to join the crew, right? Captain Ren doesn’t invite just anyone. We’re here because he trusts us all the most.”

Morgana nodded. “It’s actually surprising to me that he did. Ren can be a bit… flighty sometimes—”

“He’s like a body of water!” Ann chirped. “He’s got his shallow parts and his deep parts.”

“Well put, Lady Ann! But yes—he must feel unusually attached to you to want you to _join_ us.”

_I might have a few Persona Users on my crew. But never in my entire life have I ever met another Wild Card. You have no idea what that means to me._

“…Out of curiosity,” Goro said, keeping his tone neutral even as his thoughts cast back to what Ren had told him before, “several of you are Persona-Users, correct?”

“All of us here are,” Morgana replied. “About a fourth of the crew is.”

“Have any of you met a Wild Card besides him?”

“Nope, never,” Ann said while Makoto and Yusuke shook their heads.

“I’ve heard rumors of others in other parts of Japan,” Morgana said, “but I’ve never met any others face-to-face. Aside from you, that is.”

Goro considered this for a moment. Then he got to his feet. “Thank you for telling me all this. I’m going to go check on Ren now.”

“Go for it,” Ann said.

Morgana nodded. “If it does work out between the two of you, that would be for the best. You already seem to trust him more than most; if you can nurture that emotional closeness, it might help mitigate the effects of your chain.”

That gave him pause. Would it really be that simple…? He shook his head a little and smiled ruefully. Of course not. What was simple about wholeheartedly trusting another human being?

After bidding temporary farewell to the group, Goro picked up his chain so it wouldn’t clank and made his way upstairs. Ren was outside on the balcony, staring into nothing as he leaned his back on the rail. His usual cheer was gone, replaced with a lack of expression that Goro knew bespoke of unhappiness. He’d looked like that often enough himself. The wind blew rampant through his short curls, and the smell of it promised a storm later that day, maybe the next, but Ren didn’t seem to care.

He looked up as Goro joined him outside, then affected nonchalance. “Have a fun chat?”

Goro said nothing. He simply stepped over next to Ren and gave him a steady look.

Ren looked away first. “…Are you mad at me?”

“Why do you ask?”

He gestured vaguely with one gloved hand as he stared over his shoulder out at the sea. “Oh… you know.”

“Try again.”

Ren sighed, frustration and resignation mingling in his voice. “What Ann said about me is true. I’ve had a lot of partners over the last few years. I’m maybe a little infamous for it?” He grimaced. “It never lasts. Sometimes it’s them, but mostly it’s me. I’m just—” He clutched his forehead with one hand. “No one has been _right_ . And I told you before: I thought if I told you, you’d be disgusted and you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. And I didn’t—I really didn’t want this one to end . I mean, you already hate pirates, and I’m a pirate _captain_ , and… and I didn’t tell you that one either, and…” He trailed his hand down his face, looking miserable. “Look, if you’d rather be with someone who’s not such a mess, romantically speaking, I understand. I’ll still take you away from here no matter what. But—Goro, I want you to know I really do like you a lot, and I—”

Goro tilted Ren’s chin to face him and kissed him silent.

Ren stiffened in surprise; then he relaxed and leaned into it. They held each other for the moment the kiss lasted and beyond. When Goro pulled away, Ren sought his eyes.

Goro met his and smiled wryly. “Ren, I already knew you were a colossal flirt. You don’t need to worry about me judging you for that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’ve already been judging you about it for a while. Somehow I like you anyway.”

Ren laughed and leaned in close. Goro let him rest his head on his shoulder.

“It actually makes me feel better that you’re such a mess,” Goro murmured. “I admire your usual confidence, and I find it attractive, but it also makes me feel like… you’re out of my league. Knowing your weaknesses and insecurities--reassures me.”

“You’ll _really_ like my crew, then. They’ll jump at the chance to tell you about all my embarrassing fuck-ups.”

Goro laughed and stroked Ren’s neck. “Yes, I’ve gotten that impression.”

Ren made a soft, contented noise. For a while, the two simply remained in each other’s arms as the wind whistled around them. Eventually, though, Ren lifted his head.

“You’re really okay with me? With all the sleeping around I’ve done?” he asked.

“I… can’t say it doesn’t bother me at all,” Goro admitted, “but I’m hardly in a position to chastise you for having a colorful past. I only care that you stay faithful while we’re together.” He hesitated. “And… that _you’re_ okay with _me_.”

Ren smiled, relief palpable. “I’m definitely okay with you. After all--”

“I’m the piece you lost--right?” Goro said, smiling back.

Ren laughed as he bumped his forehead on Goro’s. “I really think so. Yeah.”

Goro giggled back, a giddy feeling rushing through his brain and making him feel pleasantly light-headed, like how he imagined being buzzed on alcohol felt. Their noses brushed together as their breaths intermingled, and for a moment, the two lost themselves in the other’s eyes.

Then Ren abruptly looked down, and Goro followed his stare to see Morgana at their feet, ears folded back and paw poking Ren’s leg. Further inside, Makoto leaned on the stairwell railing, arms folded, while Ann and Yusuke peeked up at them from the stairs themselves.

“Hey,” Morgana grumbled. “How long until you pull your head out of the clouds?”

“I mean, I could easily stay here forever, but that’s not the answer you’re looking for, I bet,” Ren said.

“It sure as hell isn’t!” Morgana huffed. He eyed Goro, ears swiveling upright, and added, “That said… if the two of you are this close already, it might not be too long until we can safely break that chain after all.”

“See? All part of my brilliant master plan,” Ren boasted.

Goro snorted and swatted him as he leaned away. “You’re so full of it.”

Ren winked at him. “ _Also_ part of my brilliant master plan.”

“In other news, Captain,” Makoto said dryly, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it looks like that storm that was on the forecast is moving in more quickly than expected. If we’re going to head back to port and pick up supplies for ourselves and to compensate… Goro-kun, we should go.”

Goro’s humor faded. It was true the clouds were moving swiftly. “You’re leaving already?”

Ren shook his head. “We don’t have to leave right this second.”

“Are you sure?” Makoto said. “If we don’t hurry and the storm hits while we’re at port, it might be a few days before we can return.”

Ren strode for the stairs. “Let’s leave right this second.”

Ann laughed as they all hurried downstairs. “Gotta hightail it now so you can make it back fast, huh, Captain?” she teased, winking.

He grinned back. “You know it.”

Goro smiled as he watched them. He hadn’t known what to make of Ann at first, but… she really did seem like a good person, she didn’t seem to have any lingering feelings for Ren, and she supported their relationship. That made him feel more secure. Between her friendliness and charm, no wonder she was called the crew’s heart.

It made him a little jealous, too: past romances with Ren aside, she had naturally what he’d always worked hard to fake. But, thankfully, it was only a little. He could manage it.

At the bottom of the lighthouse, Makoto, Ann, Yusuke, and Morgana went out to prep the boarding rowboat they’d taken from the main ship to the lighthouse. Ren himself paused in the doorway and looked at Goro with uncertain eyes.

So Goro beat him to the punch: “It’s fine. You should go.”

“Are you sure?” Ren asked. “I don’t want you feeling like I’m abandoning you.”

Goro forced a smile. “That part of me is irrational, anyway. You’re the captain. You have to captain your ship.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “…Just don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Ren smiled wistfully. “We’ll be back before you know it. Weather permitting.”

Goro bowed his head, then nodded once. “See you soon, then,” he said softly.

For a moment, Ren said nothing. Then he brushed his fingers down Goro’s neck and around his necklace. “You really do like this, huh? I haven’t seen you take it off since I gave it to you.”

Goro’s instinct was to laugh it off, claim that he just forgot to take it off, that it was easier to leave it on and not worry. He slowly shook his head instead. “I don’t like the necklace.” He hesitated, then committed to the next line: “I like _you_.”

The dazzling smile that lit Ren’s face like daybreak swept away all Goro’s worries about embarrassing himself. When Ren pulled him close by the waist, he basked in his body heat.

“Should I get you a better one, then?” he teased, voice low and husky. “I’d hate for you to toss that one out and forget all about me…”

Goro chuckled, brushing his forehead on Ren’s. “I’m far more worried _you’ll_ forget _me_.”

“I could never.”

And that did help reassure him. _This is a test,_ he told himself. _A test to see if he really will come back._ Gently, he pulled away from Ren, and reveled in his open disappointment. “You’d better be going. I don’t want to keep you.”

“Really? Because I definitely want to keep you,” Ren flirted. Still, he let him go. “You’re really okay if we go? I could ask Morgana to stay. Keep you company while we’re gone.”

As tempting as that was, Goro shook his head. He didn’t want Ren to return for anyone but him. “I’m afraid I’ve never been a cat person,” he said dryly.

He laughed. “Really? Maybe you just need to get used to them. I think you’d love cats if you gave them a chance.”

He chuckled in return. “I suppose you’re much like a cat in some ways, yourself.”

“See?” Ren winked. “They’re already growing on you.”

Goro scoffed and gave him a one-handed push. “Idiot.”

He laughed again. “Anything you _do_ want before I go, then?”

 _No, nothing,_ Goro was about to say. But the thought that this might be the last time he ever saw Ren made his chest seize up with anxiety. Even if Ren did genuinely _want_ to return, who knew what might happen? All humor flickered away from his expression. Then he leaned in close, eyelashes sinking. “Kiss me.”

So Ren did. His passion and vehemence surprised Goro at first; then he let himself melt in its heat, nails digging into Ren’s back to keep himself upright. He needed to when Ren dipped him back, one arm at the small of his back, the other slipping under Goro’s kimono and up his thigh. Goro gasped and made a small, needy noise in the back of his throat, tilting his head to take in more of his love.

Then someone cleared their throat nearby.

Goro jolted and Ren pulled away. They both stood upright and turned to see Ann leaning on the wall with a knowing smile while the others busied themselves overly much with the rowboat.

“Any day now, Captain,” she sing-sang.

“You could’ve let me enjoy the moment,” he grumbled, half-smiling.

“If I let you enjoy the moment, you’d’ve been there all day!” she teased.

Goro took a hasty step back and cleared his throat. “Well—ah—safe journeys, then. And… I’ll see you soon?”

Ren gave him a lingering gaze. It smoldered like the last stubborn coals at the end of a bonfire. “Yeah. You will.”

He couldn’t help but smile. As awkward as Ren had been at first, now that they knew each other better, he knew just what to say. It made his heart flutter.

Ren smiled back. While his feet took him outside, his eyes remained on Goro, clinging all the way until he reached the mini-dock. Ann stepped aside to give him room. He used it to linger a moment longer, gloved hand on the wall, gaze over his shoulder, until finally he ripped himself away and boarded the rowboat.

It was both easier and harder for Goro. All he had to do was stand there and watch him leave. All he could do was stand there and watch him leave. Once Ren was aboard, Goro’s shoulders sank, and he rolled inside onto the wall and sighed as if it might ease the ache in his chest.

Ann caught his attention when, with a certain bounce in her step, she trotted inside after him and leaned in close, one hand next to her mouth. Goro hastily backed away a step, but Ann’s grin was disarming enough to keep it at one.

“He’s got it for you _so_ bad,” she whispered, blue eyes twinkling. “You’d better treat him right, mister!”

“Oh, I, ah—” He swallowed and attempted to play it off by flipping his hair. “He, ah. He does?”

“ _Oh_ yeah.” Ann brought her hand to her mischievous smile. “Our captain might flirt a lot, but I’ve never seen him look at anybody like he just looked at you.”

A buoyant warmth raised the ends of Goro’s lips. “Oh, really?”

“Really really! It’s super sweet.” Her expression gentled. “I really hope we can get that chain off of you, Goro-kun. I think you’ll both be a lot happier.”

He ducked his head. “Yes. I think you may be right.” A pause; then he looked back up. “Please keep him safe. I really would hate it if he survived one storm only to die in the next.”

Ann gave him a firm nod. “Of course!” She gave him a playful swat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too hard, though. Our captain’s practically immortal. You wouldn’t believe the things he’s lived through!”

He had to smile at that. “Worse than swimming through Mother Nature’s fury with nothing to keep him afloat? He truly does have the devil’s own luck.”

“Ahaha, no kidding! Still, we’re all really glad he made it through again. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

 _I can understand the feeling,_ Goro thought, chest squeezing tight. Ren had been gone approximately one minute and already he didn’t know how he was going to handle the loneliness.

“Anyway, I better get going. The sooner we leave, the sooner he comes back, right?” Ann grinned and waved as she turned to the door. “We’ll see you again real soon. Stay safe, okay? Bye!”

“Good-bye.”

Once she was gone, he shut the door behind her. He considered locking up, but… really, there was generally no point unless he was concerned about the strength of a storm. And while there was one coming up soon, he’d like there to be a way for friendly strangers to get inside to safety. Just in case.

After taking a deep breath and sighing it out, he walked to the top of the lighthouse so he could watch the S.S. Mona sail away.


	13. The Return

Days passed. Rain poured. Goro fretted. The first day hadn’t been so bad, but as more had passed, the harder it became to not imagine the worst. Each day after Ren had left on his ship, instead of inspecting the sea from the bottom of the lighthouse, Goro climbed to the top to search the horizon. If the S.S. Mona were nearby, though, he couldn’t see it through the sheets of endless dreary rain. This cursed rain! The worst of the storm that Makoto had warned them about had passed, but it must have revved up the rainy season something fierce, because this rain just wouldn’t go _away_. Ren had said ‘weather willing.’ Would _he_ be willing? Would he even be able to sail through precipitation this thick?

The gold that hung from his neck both reassured him and made him more anxious. After that last passionate kiss, he thought Ren would probably _try_ to return. But…

He shook his head violently and moved away from the window through which he’d been watching the rain. The loops of chain he’d created by pacing around the center pillar of his home had eventually pulled him taut, nearly yanking him off his feet. He’d had to start pacing in the other direction to free himself. Once the loops were undone, the chain shortened itself to a more reasonable length, and Goro paced in a line instead of a circle until he finally heaved himself onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. That lasted for perhaps five seconds. Then he got up on his knees, propped his elbows on the windowsill, and stared back out at the rain.

 _Ren. I m_ _iss you. I need to see you._ _Are you thinking the same about me right now? Or have you already forgotten all about me…?_

Almost worse than the possibility of being abandoned was what Makoto had told him: that Ren Amamiya and Akira Kurusu were cousins. If Ren found out what Goro had done, would he ever forgive him? Would he hate him? Would he recoil in disgust at having ever touched and been touched by him? There was no knowing. And not knowing was the worst part of all.

After an indeterminate but interminable amount of time, Goro shoved himself upright, anger flashing through him like lightning in the clouds.

“What am I, a dog pining for his master?!” he yelled aloud, just to hear the sound of his own voice. “I have better things to do than—than _mope_!”

And that wasn’t really true, but he thrust himself off the bed and stormed over to the supply cabinet anyway. The lighthouse was clean—it was always clean, thanks to his daily efforts—but he went over the entire building to eradicate every last speck of dirt and dust from every single corner, moving and upturning furniture and books and various other things until every surface sparkled in the lamplight. The only dirty thing left was Goro himself, dusty and sweaty after working himself to the bone all day. He put away the cleaning supplies, threw his clothes in the hamper, and relished in a steaming hot shower.

An inspection of himself in the mirror showed him he’d grown some stubble in the last few days while he’d been too wrapped up in his own misery to pay attention to hygiene. He had a safety razor (Sae didn’t trust him with a real one), so he lathered up and shaved, then brushed his teeth and combed his hair. Once he was done, his anxiety was—well, it wasn’t _gone_ , but it was somewhat more manageable.

He shivered when he stepped out of the bathroom. All this rain had dropped the temperature so much it was outright chilly, despite being more than halfway through June. He put on some underwear—a fundoshi tied around his loins, a shitagi fastened around his torso—then put on some music and fixed himself a cup of (instant) coffee. He drank it and fixed a second, then brought it over to the couch, where he curled up with a blanket and _The Midnight Fog_.

An empty cup and several chapters through the climax later, his eyelids grew so heavy they dragged his head down with them. The coffee had given him a little extra steam, but exhaustion from stress and exertion was now drowning out the caffeine.

 _I_ _t’s late. I should_ _s_ _leep anyway_ _,_ he told himself, replacing his bookmark and setting down the enormous novel. He turned out the lights, wrapped the blanket tight around himself, and retired to bed. _I’ll read the rest tomorrow_ _..._

_Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distant heavens, while underfoot, mud slurped and clung to his feet as he chased his prey. An endless drizzle soaked him to the bone, leaving him chill and numb beneath his armor. Even so, his heart raced with him. Somewhere ahead, in the forests that hadn’t been there in real life, he saw flashes of his target._

_He lashed his sword in graceful, deadly arcs. Branches and vines fell away from him with unreal ease. A_ _head of him, his target flashed in and out of sight between the trees and the shadows. He could close the distance between them with ease, but what fun would it be to end the game so early?_

 _But then, at some point during their chase, it dawned on him that he was not the hunter seconds away from pouncing on his prey, but the chaser forever doomed to be eluded._ _He put on a burst of speed to prove himself wrong, but to no avail: his target was just a little quicker, just a little out of reach._ _He poured himself into ending the hunt, but he could not. And like that, his thrills smeared into fear. Fear he would be left behind. Fear he would be abandoned. It made perfect sense. Of course the one he wanted to kill shouldn’t cast him aside._

 _The vines he’d cut aside so effortlessly before now tangled around him, dragging at him, pulling him back. He reached out a hand to his target, but they paid him no heed._ _He struggled against his bonds, but they only constricted tighter around him._ _The earth beneath his feet, softened by the jungle rain, bubbled and burbled and then, to his horror, began to swallow him up. Struggling harder did nothing. This time, he reached out a hand for help—_

_A hand clasped his own._

_“Goro,” said an intimately familiar voice._

_Eyes widening in desperation behind the slits of his helmet-mask, he sought his savior and found him. He was a handsome man, about his age or a little younger, with frizzy black hair and eyes as dark as the storm…_

_And a chunk of his head missing._

_As blood streamed over and around his face, the other man s_ _tared both into eternity and deep into his soul. It felt like it was impossible to escape his regard. Like he was about to get sucked into the storm._

 _“Goro,”_ _t_ _he_ _dead man_ _repeated, and it was Ren’s voice._

_He screamed and_

“ _Goro_!” Ren repeated with urgent concern.

Goro jolted awake, coiled up in his blanket, one hand stretched out to the ceiling. Ren held it between both his hands, staring down at him with knitted eyebrows from next to the bed, seated on the chair from the dining table. For an instant, his face overlaid the one in his dream, and they were identical. He seized up, sucking in a breath to scream again.

“Goro, Goro, it’s okay,” Ren added, voice now soothing. “You were having a nightmare, but you’re awake now. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The repetition eased through the haze of his dreams and coaxed him into reality. For a moment, Goro stared at him, unable to comprehend why he was suddenly here. Then he decided he didn’t give a damn and flung his arms around Ren’s shoulders. Ren uttered a low _oof_ as this dragged him down, then laughed and hugged him back.

“You missed me?” he teased.

Goro clung harder.

Ren leaned into him. “…Well, I missed you too,” he murmured, tone gentling.

For a moment, the two held each other in silence. Then they eased back, Goro kneeling on his bed. Ren brushed Goro’s bangs out of his face with a touch as tender as his smile.

“When did you get back?” Goro murmured.

Ren turned his gaze out the window. Goro followed it to see a mackerel sky lined by a few scant scraps of blue. “Just now, basically. Sorry I took so long. The door wasn’t locked, at least, so I let myself in and found you thrashing around. Figured I’d do us both a favor and wake you up.” He grinned. “I’ve got a few things to make the wait up to you, though. I think you’ll like ‘em.”

Goro eased off the bed. “Meaning you’ll also have me meet more of your crew as they bring these things over?”

“Bull’s-eye! Need a moment to get dressed?”

“And wash my face, and comb my hair, and brush my teeth, yes,” Goro said dryly. Still, he already felt more at ease. He couldn’t help but smile. The anxiety of their separation, the horror of his nightmare, and the guilt from his sins washed away in Ren’s presence like a sand castle off a beach. He came back to him. _He came back._ Nothing else mattered anymore. Or rather, everything that mattered was right here at the ends of his fingertips.

Nightmares were nothing more than nightmares, so common and petty they were no longer worth dwelling on. Ren had come back to him of his own will. Everything would be all right now.

Ignorant of his thoughts, Ren grinned. “Need to make yourself pretty? I like how you look straight out of bed, though.”

He pushed a finger on Ren’s forehead. “If basic hygiene is ‘making myself pretty,’ I fear for your standards.”

Ren leaned back, laughing. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re always pretty.”

Goro scoffed, still smiling, and fetched an outfit from the wardrobe. “And you’re always incorrigible.”

Ren swept into a deep, dramatic bow, one arm arcing around his side and coming to a rest at his waist. Goro laughed and excused himself to the bathroom.

Yes. Everything was fine. And it would stay fine as long as he kept his mouth shut.

After freshening up and getting dressed, Goro followed Ren upstairs, where the S.S. Mona had boarded onto the balcony ringing the lighthouse light, much like Sae’s ship did during resupply days. That’s how it was built, but he was a little surprised to see that Ren had noticed it without being told. On the other side of the boarding plank stood four people next to a full-length mirror, a desk, a couch, a love seat, and several matching chairs, along with several crates of varying size. The deck appeared to be clear of anyone else, Goro noted as he looked around. Was that Ren’s idea, too? Four people had been as much as Goro could manage last time; did Ren deliberately decide to have only four people bring over these ‘presents’ for that reason?

As he wondered, the crew members, who had been chatting amongst each other, noticed them. One of them, a lanky bottle-blond man with a black jacket and red scarf, waved cheerfully and stood up straight from where he’d been leaning on the couch.

“Yo!” he called. “Wassup? So you’re the infamous Goro that Ren can’t stop talking about!”

With significantly less friendly cheer, a petite young woman with large glasses eyeballed him. She had long orange hair and wore a black tank top, a neon green safety vest, and dark green cargo pants with a belt full of tools. “Y-yeah… He really c-can’t stop talking about you. Like, a-at all.”

A second woman, this one with light brown hair cut in a fluffy bob, giggled. She had a stately, elegant stance, and wore a purple vest with gold buttons over a white blouse and puffy black slacks. Of everyone he’d met so far, she was the only one with a pirate-like hat, what with the long white feather curling from its black brim. “Awww, but isn’t it nice to see him so happy?”

“Yes, I think it’s sweet!” a third woman chirped, slender, with a high ponytail tied up by a red ribbon. Her posture was somehow even more perfect than the second woman’s, and she wore a leather jacket, a silver belt, and thigh-high boots over what appeared to be a leotard and tights. To Goro, she gave a polite bow. Something about her seemed familiar. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance!”

Goro clutched Ren’s sleeve, but managed to keep it together. Affixing a smile, he bowed back. “Thank you. The pleasure is all mine.”

“That’s Ryuji, Futaba, Haru, and Kasumi,” Ren said, pointing to each one in turn. “They’re gonna bring that stuff there in.”

“Which is a terrible idea!” Futaba yelled. Now that she was addressing him, she seemed much more comfortable, or at least more expressive. On which note, she lifted her arms and undulated them. “Why would you make someone with these noodle arms help carry heavy furniture?!”

“You can handle a _chair_ , Futaba,” Ren yelled back. He looked back at Goro with a significantly brighter expression. “So what d’you think? I figure, at the very _least_ you could use more chairs!”

“…Ren, you do recall that, despite appearances, this is a prison, and I am a prisoner, correct?” Goro reminded him. “My jailers check up on me once a month when they bring provisions. Even if you have your crew bring these things in, they’re not going to let me keep them. They’re certainly going to have a plethora of questions about how and from where I got them.”

Ren drooped. It was truly the only word for the way his smile—no, his whole demeanor fell. “You don’t like it?”

“N-no, it’s…” He bowed his head. “It’s very thoughtful. Thank you. I do like them, and I’m grateful to you, it’s just… I fear it will all go to waste.”

He picked himself up and gave Goro a considering look. Then he smiled gently. “It won’t be a waste for the next couple weeks.”

He looked up at him. “Ren…”

Ren half-turned to face his crew and gestured towards himself. “All right, let’s load ‘em up! We’ve have a coffee break once we’re done!”

And so they brought everything over. Goro moved out of the way to give them space. There was a tense silence when the four first saw Robin Hood in his cage of light, but… the invective Ryuji spewed was directed at Goro’s jailers and not Goro himself. Haru, Kasumi, and even Futaba were more sympathetic after that, too. It made it a little easier to deal with them. He helped move things downstairs, and once everything was set in place, they all sat together at the dining table as Ren fixed a pot of Blue Mountain coffee.

Already the air smelled delicious. Goro shut his eyes and rested his elbows on the table, breathing it in. It was a strange feeling, knowing he was about to share a cup of coffee with an entire table full of people. Even stranger was having them all sit together at his little dining table like this. It wasn’t so bad, though. He opened his eyes and looked again at the others.

The short one, Futaba, was openly staring at him as the others chatted with Ren. Instinctively, Goro straightened his back and squared his shoulders.

“Er… yes?” he prompted her.

“N-nothing,” she mumbled. And then she said nothing else. And did not stop staring.

Goro waited a moment, just in case. The wait rapidly grew unbearable. “U-um, is there… something on my face…?” he re-prompted.

“Nope.”

And still she stared. Just when he thought he might pop, the woman with the fluffy hair—Haru, wasn’t it?—noticed them and turned around.

“Futaba-chan, it’s not polite to stare like that,” she said gently, as if giving Futaba a reminder.

And, as if receiving a reminder, Futaba looked at her, seemingly genuinely startled, and said, “Oh! Right.”

Haru gave her a warm smile, and an apologetic one to Goro. “Sorry about that. Futaba-chan doesn’t have the best social graces at times,” she explained. “She doesn’t mean any harm, I promise.”

“Oh, well… Thank you,” Goro said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

She laughed a little—it sounded as awkward as he felt—and lowered her eyes. “It’s a little hard thinking of what to say when you meet new people, isn’t it…? I hope we haven’t made you uncomfortable.”

“You have. But that would be the case with anyone.” He attempted a laugh. It came out stilted and dissonant to his ears. “As I keep telling Ren—I’m not used to company.”

“No kiddin’,” Ryuji said, apparently attracted to the sound of social garbage. “You don’t hafta be so uptight, man! We’re all chill here.”

“You do seem unusually quiet, though, Futaba-chan,” Kasumi noted, looking over at her. “Is everything all right?”

“N-no, I’m okay…”

Ryuji shrugged. “Yeah, she’s always like this meeting new folks. It’s just been a while, is all. Don’t worry about it.”

Kasumi chuckled ruefully, then met Goro’s eye. “At least you two have something in common, then. You’re both not good with new people!”

And that rubbed Goro the wrong way, the way she said that, but—was she wrong? It had been a long time since he could manipulate social interactions like a pro. When Ren served up his magnificent coffee a moment later, it was a blessing in many ways.

As they each savored their drinks (except for Ryuji, who apparently had the palate of a child and thus needed a 2:1 ratio of cream to coffee), the mood relaxed. Eventually, Haru looked over at the potted tomatoes sunning in the window next to her.

“Do you have an interest in gardening, Goro-kun?” she asked.

“Oh… I wouldn’t call it an interest, per se,” he replied, setting down his cup. “But tomatoes are a good source of vitamin C, and they’re easy to grow. I’m allowed to raise them as a supplement to my monthly supplies.”

She looked back at him with a smile. “Growing plants for practical reasons is still an interest, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose.”

“I garden as a practical hobby, myself,” she continued, resting a hand on her chest. “We keep a few planters on our ship. There’s not enough space for a true garden, but they help supplement our supplies on long trips, like with you.”

He found himself smiling back. “Oh, so you do the same thing?”

“Yes. Do you do anything special with your plants? I’d love to exchange tips!”

His smile faded. “Oh… No, I’m sorry. I water them and that’s it. I don’t really know what else to do, to be honest with you. I regret to admit that any plant needing more complicated care ends up dying under my watch.”

Haru’s face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that… The poor plants.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “But… if that’s the case, then perhaps I could offer you some advice?”

“Haru’s got an incredible green thumb,” Ren piped up, lowering his coffee cup. “She even grows her own beans.”

“As in coffee beans?” Goro asked, interest piquing. “I’m quite impressed. I didn’t know you could raise them in planters.”

Haru giggled, a bit of color rising in her cheeks. “No, no, in my garden at home—though you actually can raise them in planters! I take it you like coffee, Goro-kun?”

“Oh, yes. It’s one of the few pleasures I have living out here.”

“Oooh, so that’s why you got some good stuff,” Futaba remarked, peering at him with renewed interest and confidence. “It’s so easy to get a cup of coffee all wrong!”

“Ah, no, I just happened to have some good beans right now. Normally all I receive is instant.”

“Ack! Blech! Arrgh!!” Futaba grimaced comically. “That’s cruel and unusual punishment!!”

To his own surprise, Goro laughed and meant it. “Well, in my case, it can’t be helped. I’m afraid I have little talent for the culinary arts. I feel very fortunate to have Ren making coffee for me.”

“True that! Ren’s coffee is next level,” Futaba declared.

On the other side of Ren, Ryuji muttered, “It figures they’d end up bonding over friggin’ bitter bean juice. Why’s this crew gotta be full of coffee nerds?”

Kasumi giggled and patted him on the shoulder. “There, there. As long as Goro-kun’s bonding, right?”

Goro coughed into one hand as Ren’s smile widened. Honestly… “It must be tough,” he offered to Ryuji. “What do you like drinking instead?”

“Huh, me?” Ryuji blinked. “Uhh, you know… Beer, soda… Stuff that tastes good?”

Futaba made a face. “Wrong. Bad. Rejected,” she declared. “Anyone who thinks beer tastes good is disqualified from life.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?!”

As Ryuji and Futaba bickered, Kasumi giggled again and caught Goro’s eye. “It’s fun to watch them go at it, huh?” she said. “Like your own live TV show!”

Goro thinned his lips as he thought of something polite to say. He came up with, “I think I’m a little too, ah, new to the group, still, to enjoy watching others fight…”

Her face fell. “Oh, yeah…” She scooted her chair closer to him and lowered her voice. “I know how you feel, though. I was the last one to join the group. Everyone’s really friendly and welcoming, but it’s hard at first when you only know one person. It’s sort of like—am I really going to fit in? If I can’t, am I going to have to share my only friend here with a bunch of strangers?”

He looked around as the others. Haru was trying to mediate Futaba and Ryuji’s bickering, and Ren was just leaning his head on one hand and smiling as he watched them. Slowly, he nodded. He definitely understood that feeling.

“But after a while, that feeling goes away, I promise,” Kasumi continued warmly. “Once you get used to everyone and everyone gets used to you, it’ll be like you were here all along.” She patted his shoulder. “‘Til then, I’ll cheer you on, Goro-kun!” She grinned. “Life’s always easier when you’ve got someone in your corner, right?”

He gave her a slow smile. What a sweet woman. Because of her, he already felt more at ease. “Thank you. I really do appreciate that.”

She beamed at him. Then she cleared her throat loudly to cut through the argument. “So Haru-chan, you’re not just good at growing vegetables but flowers too, right?”

“Oh! Yes, though I don’t get a chance to grow them as often,” she replied. She looked at Goro. “I bet flowers would really help liven this place up.”

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here to raise any of my own,” he replied, glancing at Ren, “but I expect they would.” He looked further at Kasumi. “Do you like flowers?”

“I do! I love them. Especially…” Bafflingly, Kasumi’s expression clouded. Her smile still lingered, but now it was bittersweet. When she brightened again, it was clearly forced. “Anyway, I like them!”

“A-ah, I see.” Goro paused awkwardly. Kasumi was starting to look distressed too, no doubt realizing the mood had soured, and the others were starting to stare. He cleared his throat and focused. “Ah, um, Haru-san, correct?”

“Oh, yes?” she responded, eyes widening.

“We moved off-topic a bit, but… if you’re willing to share your know-how, I’d be happy to accept your advice on growing vegetables.”

She brightened. “Yes! I’m delighted to hear that--because I can already tell you you’re doing several things wrong.”

He laughed ruefully. Thank god, that punctured the tension nicely. “You certainly don’t pull your punches, do you?”

She giggled. “You have Ren to thank for that. I could hardly speak my mind at all until after I met him.”

Goro glanced at his lover; his lover gave him a subdued but genuine grin, like the crackling warmth of a hearth fire. “I believe it. He does seem to have an effect on people, doesn’t he?”

“It’s my overwhelming grace, wit, and charm,” Ren said, splaying his free hand on his chest.

Goro scoffed and rolled his eyes, even as he held back a smile.

“Haw haw, he rolled his eyes at you,” Futaba sing-sang at Ren. Meanwhile, Kasumi outright cracked up and Ryuji uttered, “Oh my _god_ , dude.”

Ren raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, because he knows I’m right but he doesn’t want to admit it.”

Kasumi grinned at Goro, eyes sparkling with a revival of her good humor. “Is that true?”

“Considering he’s made himself out to be right whether I admit anything or not, I’ll leave it to your imagination,” he replied dryly.

Everyone laughed at that, which made him smile outright. Not wanting to seem _too_ pleased with their approval, Goro took a long sip of his coffee. Kasumi had been right; the longer he spent time with these people, the easier it got to be around them. Ann and Yusuke had been surprisingly pleasant to be around, too. Maybe they were all being nice to each other to please Ren, but it felt like that wasn’t the _only_ reason. Like maybe Ren’s crew genuinely enjoyed his company. And just maybe he was starting to come around to them, too. Maybe, then… it was all right to hope?


	14. The North Star

Haru really did know her gardening. Goro spent a long while talking to her about soil, potting depth, staking, sunlight, and little tricks like not letting too many flowers bud on a plant so all the plant’s nutrients would go to a select few fruits. When he questioned that, she explained that this made the fruits that remained more nutritious. It made sense; he learned a lot. Gardening was not his forte, but after her lessons, he felt much more competent.

More odd was how Futaba insisted on watching the two from atop a chair that she did not so much sit as squat upon, feet tucked up on the edge of the seat. Her occasional commentary did liven up the conversation, though, and in time Goro grew more comfortable with both of them.

Meanwhile, Ren, Ryuji, and Kasumi had headed over to the couch after drinks to chat, perhaps figuring Goro would be more relaxed with an even smaller group. They weren’t wrong, really.

“I think the best thing you could do, if you end up having to stay here for a while longer and want to start growing more fruits and vegetables on your own, is make some planters for the light room upstairs,” Haru concluded after they had returned to the table to enjoy another cup of coffee. “Those kind of greenhouse conditions will let you raise plants year-round.”

“That _is_ a good idea. Thank you, Haru-san,” he said, one finger hooked around the handle of his cup. “I’ll have to consider what I want to grow. Well—I suppose I’ll have to build planters, first.”

“You oughtta ask Ren to do that for you,” Futaba remarked, whirling a finger his way. Ren caught notice of her attention and waved. “When it comes to handyman stuff, he’s _way_ OP.”

Goro laughed a little as he waved back. “Yes, so I’ve seen. You see that record player over there? It was broken before he got his hands on it.”

“That’s Ren for you,” Haru said, smiling over the brim of her cup. She sipped and continued, “Sometimes it feels like he can do anything.”

Goro tucked one ankle behind the other. The edges of his manacle dug into his skin. “Anything, huh.”

“Yeah, yeah. And the stuff he’s not good at? He can usually fake it,” Futaba said. “His luck stat is through the roof.”

He gazed down at his dark reflection in the coffee cup. Then he looked from Haru to Futaba. “Do you two think he can really free me?”

“Oh, yeah, no doubt,” Futaba said promptly. “That chain of yours looks like a hella tough roll, like, natural 20 tough. But our captain’s _real_ fired up about whisking you away and carrying you off into the sunset like some kinda princess.”

There was a lot to unpack in that statement. Goro opted instead to cough politely into one fist.

“Futaba-chan has a point,” Haru said, setting down her cup. “I don’t know how difficult a task it will be to dismantle that awful generator, but he’s _very_ motivated to succeed.” Her eyes squinted shut as her smile widened. “I hope he does. Even if it ends up taking a long time to manage, I’d love to have a gardening friend on board once it’s all over!”

“I—I think that would be nice, too,” Goro admitted, smiling a little. “I can’t guarantee I’ll keep up with it forever, but at the very least, after all that instruction you gave me, I would hate to let the knowledge go to waste.”

Haru clapped her hands and tilted them against her cheek. “Wonderful!”

“I heard about it from Mona, though,” Futaba added. “He said you gotta _want_ to be free.”

Goro’s good humor faded. He bowed his head.

Her tone turned sympathetic: “I’m not criticizing. I mean… actually, I can relate. After you’ve gotten used to being all alone… the idea of leaving your cozy little space and shoving yourself at other people? It’s scary. B-but it’s worth it!” she added with sudden vehemence. “You’ll be a lot happier after you get out there and open up! Trust me, I know!”

He blinked at her. She stared at him without blinking. He let his expression soften. “I take it Ren came to your rescue at some point, too?”

“He’s come to all our rescues at some point,” Haru said affectionately. “The most recent incident with Hifumi-chan was just the latest.”

“She felt so bad too! ‘I’ll never live with myself if the Captain died because of me!’ she kept saying!” Futaba added, holding up a finger. “Swear he’s got some kinda hero complex.”

“I’m literally right across the room, Futaba,” Ren called from the couch.

“Yeah, I know,” she called back.

Haru giggled, then caught Goro’s eye. “And now he’s out to save you, too.” She leaned in and, behind a hand, murmured, “It’s nice to know that love hasn’t changed him too much.”

He straightened in his chair.

Apparently Futaba was close enough to hear despite the lowered voices, because she looked at the two of them with a grimace. “You think? W-well, I guess that’s true…” She fiddled with her fingers, them mumbled, “Actually I was kinda sorta peeved about how obsessed he is with you now but you seem like you’re probably okay so I guess it’s all right or whatever…”

Goro blinked rapidly. “Are you implying that you’re jealous of me?”

“I’m not _jealous_!” Futaba snapped. “It was just annoying that we were all worried to death about him and when we finally get him back, he’s all mellow-mellow over some _guy_!”

He cracked up. “‘Mellow-mellow’?”

“I’m still literally right across the room,” Ren called.

“Shut up!! You didn’t hear that! Plug your ears! Stop listening!!” Futaba yelled back.

Ren caught Goro’s eye, grinned, and obediently turned around and stuck his fingers in his ears.

Ryuji, at his right, made a face. “Dude, are you seriously doing that?”

Meanwhile, Futaba turned back to Goro, eyes deadly serious. “Okay. Now that that’s settled.”

“You two have an… interesting relationship,” Goro observed, fighting back a smile and losing.

“He’s basically my big brother.”

“‘Basically’?”

“Well, we’re not related by blood or anything. Anyway!! What I was saying was, I didn’t really know if you were any good for our captain or not at first so I wasn’t really hype for you at first.”

“As I understand you’ve already heard, our captain can be a little… flighty, when it comes to romance,” Haru piped in delicately. “But he seems very serious about you.”

“Yeah, and it was weird, like—what kind of magic spell did you cast?” Futaba grouched. “But it doesn’t seem like it’s like that. _So_.”

“Ahaha… I promise I don’t have any kind of special power like that.” Goro flicked his gaze down. “If I could keep people from leaving me, I wouldn’t be in this position now.”

An awkward moment of silence. Haru’s gaze was sympathetic, which made it worse. And here he’d thought he’d improved a little… He really was the worst.

“S-so, um,” Futaba spoke up then, “y-you’ve really been here almost seven years? That’s something else! E-even I wasn’t a shut-in for more than two, myself…”

“Ahaha… Well, I _am_ here as punishment for a crime.” Any pretense of a smile finally fell from Goro’s lips. “It’s my obligation to stay here. Forever.”

Panic lit up Futaba’s face like an out-of-control sparkler. She flailed her hands and shot Haru a desperate glance.

Haru stood up and gave them both a bracing smile. “Say, how about I make us another pot of coffee? I’m not as good as Captain Ren, but I’m still quite skilled. I’m confident you’ll enjoy it!”

Goro gave her a little nod. He knew a topic change when he heard one, and anyway, he didn’t really want to discuss the matter anyhow. “Thank you. That sounds nice.”

She got up and circled around the table and into the kitchenette. He watched her go, then looked back at Futaba.

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable,” he murmured.

“What? N-no, no, I’m just— _uuugghhh_.” She dug her knuckles into her skull. “I’m still! So bad! At people!! It’s so annoying! Why’s meeting people have to be so hard?!”

He offered a small laugh. “When I saw how many of you there were, I nearly had a panic attack.” He let some of the queasiness he felt show. “…Actually, even with only four of you, it’s overwhelming.”

“Right?! It’s still a huge crowd! And it’s agony tryin’ to think up conversation topics! Why do I even have to do this?! I oughtta be back in my nice quiet room where I can relax by myself!”

“If you don’t want to be here, I don’t mind if you go back,” he offered.

Futaba lit up. “Really?! Wow, you’re so understanding!” She hopped to her feet, unfolding from the strange way she sat on her chair. “Haruuu! Can I get my coffee to go? Imma make like a plane and jet!”

Haru turned to them with regretful eyes, holding up the bag of Mountain Blue that Goro had gotten for his birthday. “I wish I could do that for you, but…” She shook the bag, and its hollow rattle explained everything for her.

“Out already?” Goro said, dismayed. It had only been a small bag, true, but to think it had run dry already… He shouldn’t have let Ren make them that coffee every day. He’d wanted to savor it…

Across the room, Ren stood up and hopped nimbly over the couch. “Sorry! I used most of the last of it with that last batch.”

“No, no, it’s—it’s fine,” Goro lied, holding up a hand. “It’s the best thing I have to serve to guests, and you made it better than I ever could have. I do wish it had lasted a little longer, though…”

“Weeeeell, funny you should say that,” Ren drawled. He stopped in front of the crate of unknown contents he and his crew had brought in earlier. With a flourish and a bow, he opened up the lid and lifted out— “Tadaaa!” he cheered, holding out a new, significantly larger bag of Blue Mountain coffee.

“Oh!” Goro half-rose from his seat. “You picked up more?”

“I told you I’d compensate you, didn’t I? And that’s not all!” Grinning, he handed Haru the Blue Mountain and pulled out two more bags of coffee beans. “I also got you some Papua New Guinea, if you wanted something else like it, and some Yirgacheffe, if you’re ever in the mood for iced coffee! Which I assume you will since summer’s just getting underway. You’ve got ice; you may as well put it to good use!”

Goro cupped a hand over his mouth. Expensive coffee, a wide range of fine furniture—if he didn’t already know Ren was a pirate, he’d boggle over how he could afford to lavish him with so many luxuries. “Th-thank you,” he eventually managed. “But you’re spoiling me, honestly.”

“Goro, I haven’t even _begun_ to spoil you.” Ren’s grin widened. “Why don’t you come over here and see what else you’ve got?”

“Our captain couldn’t wait to spring this surprise,” Kasumi chirped, walking over with Ryuji to join everyone.

Ren waved a hand at her. “Shh, shh.”

Heart pounding, Goro walked over to the box and knelt down. Ren beamed at him and pulled out gift after gift.

The first: a lighter and a package of sparklers. “Something to get festive with, because what’s summer without fireworks?” Next: a pair of incredibly soft, silky white faux-fur slippers. “Some slippers, because it might be hot now but it won’t be forever, and I noticed you don’t have any socks or shoes.” Third: a set of vinyl records. “Some new tunes! I bet you haven’t heard much that’s come out the last seven years, but I figured you’d probably miss your favorites too, so I got a mix of new and old jazz albums—” Ren paused at Goro’s expression. His smile faded. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

“I-I love it,” he stammered, ashen. “But I’m overwhelmed.”

The moment of silence that followed weighed oppressively down on Goro. Ren glanced around, then made a sharp little gesture with one hand over his head. Almost as one, Haru, Futaba, Kasumi, and Ryuji filed out of the room upstairs. Goro watched them go, impressed despite everything at their coordination and communication. To move so smoothly without a word must be the product of years of cooperation and trust… A pang of envy struck his heart.

Once they were out of sight, Ren rested that hand on Goro’s cheek and gently tilted his face to look back at him.

“Tell me the truth,” he murmured. “What don’t you like?”

His pulse jumped. Slowly, carefully, Goro layered a hand over Ren’s. “I don’t dislike it. Honestly,” he murmured back. “But it’s all so much. I keep telling you over and over, I’m a prisoner. A criminal. I won’t be allowed to keep these things.” He curled his fingers around Ren’s hand and peeled it away as he lowered his gaze. “Even if I were allowed, you’re giving me furniture, expensive coffee, various sundries… I know you’re a pirate, so I can’t help but worry about how you got them.”

Ren flinched at that last part. “So you _did_ figure it out.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to ignore what you were saying, I just…” He trailed off and watched him closely. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“Not mad. But very, very worried. At the beginning of the month, my jailers specifically asked me to keep an eye out for pirate activity and report it back to them. I have no intentions of doing so, but I don’t know how I can hide it when my living quarters are suddenly bedecked with expensive gifts.”

 _And,_ he didn’t add, _I really don’t deserve all this._

Ren rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Oops. I didn’t think it through that far.”

He puffed out an exaggeratedly exasperated sigh. “How can you captain a ship when you can’t even think through a plan properly?”

A shadow crossed Ren’s eyes. “I manage somehow.”

When he didn’t say anything further, Goro wondered if _Ren_ was angry. “So, ah… what were you about to say earlier? After you said you weren’t trying to ignore me.”

“Oh, uh.” He scratched his head, cheeks turning pink. “Basically, I got carried away. I kept seeing things I thought might make you happy and thinking I ought to make a present of it, and I couldn’t pick what _one_ thing to go with, so I just… brought it all.”

Definitely not angry. Goro huffed a sigh even as he was unable to hold back a smile. “Well… I can’t fault your intentions, at least. It does make me happy that you thought so much about me.”

Ren lit up. If he were a dog, his tail would’ve started wagging at top speed. As a cat person, he instead kept it cool and gestured around the room. “Besides. You had a critical lack of furniture before, and a lot of incoming guests.”

His smile turned wry. “That much is true.”

He set his hand on his knee. “…So if this much is too much, then you probably don’t wanna see the rest, huh?”

“There’s _more_?”

He half-smiled. “Gotta save the best for last.”

Goro pursed his lips, but curiosity won out. “Show me.”

Ren reached into the crate and pulled out a pair of long, rectangular jewelry boxes. “So, the necklace I gave you before, that’s really just back-up gold. I like the style, sure, but it’s there for if I need something to sell or trade in a pinch.”

Goro’s gaze flicked to Ren’s neck. Sure enough, he had a replacement gold chain much like the one Goro himself now wore.

“So I wanted to get something more meaningful, for both of us,” Ren continued. He held one of the boxes out. “Here.”

Goro accepted and opened it. Ren did likewise with the box he kept. Inside each one was a round locket on a rose gold chain. The curved surface had an eight-pointed star made of crystal studded on an iridescent black mother-of-pearl enamel background. Goro studied the matching pendants, then looked up into Ren’s eyes.

“To a sailor on the sea at night, there’s nothing more vital than the North Star,” Ren said softly. “It lights our path and guides us home… It leads us through danger and brings us to safety. For centuries—millennia, even—it’s been there as a guidepost. And it’ll keep on being there for millennia to come. It is, literally and figuratively, a star of hope.

“Goro… You’re my North Star.”

Goro’s soul pulled in two directions: up with the buoyancy of joy, and down with the weight of guilt. “R-Ren… I…”

But then Ren was stroking his face, and he smiled at him tenderly and leaned in… Goro shut his eyes, tilted his head, and kissed him back. They didn’t part until Goro’s head swam, and even then he clutched him with the hand not holding the locket to keep him close.

“I love you,” Ren whispered. His breath, scented with fine coffee, tickled Goro’s lips. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy with _me_. If the rest of this junk doesn’t do that, I’ll throw it all away, if that’s what you prefer. But I hope you’ll at least accept this.”

Goro grabbed Ren’s back, pulled him closer, and kissed him again with renewed ferocity. Ren gasped under his mouth and held him back, knees overlapping. When they parted this time, their breaths came hot and fast.

“Don’t throw all this stuff away, idiot,” Goro whispered. “That’s so wasteful.”

Ren snorted and cracked up. “Gooorooo! I’m trying to be romantic here!”

“Well, you’re doing a superb job so far, so don’t muck it up by doing stupid things like trashing a perfectly good bag of Blue Mountain beans.”

Ren laughed again and nuzzled him. “You’re right. That _would_ be real stupid.”

Goro smiled affectionately and rested his forehead on Ren’s. “Thank you. I love your presents.” He hesitated. “And… I love you, too. I really am happy with you.”

Ren lit up with his radiant Milky Way smile. “Really?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just—well, you hate pirates. You don’t mind I am one?”

“You don’t mind I’m a murderer?” Goro countered.

“Unfair comparison. That’s all in the past, but I’m still a pirate.”

“Mmm…” Goro averted his eyes and thought of what Makoto had told him about Ren’s cousin. Love stained with guilt and churned into nausea. “What if… I’d murdered someone you care about, though?”

“Goro?”

“What if,” he repeated desperately.

Ren stared into space. “I guess that’s possible,” he said slowly. “War and all.”

Goro said nothing.

He focused back on him. “Goro. Do you plan on killing again once you’re out of here?”

“What? No,” he said reflexively.

He smiled. “Then it’s fine. It’s in the past.”

He stared at him, astonished. “What? But I—” He averted his eyes. “…I might have killed someone dear to you.”

“Everyone who’s still dear to me is right there on my ship,” he replied, pointing his chin towards a window. “Maybe that sounds callous, but there’s only one thing I hold a grudge over from back then. If you happened to run into someone on the battlefield, and you fought them and won, and that person happened to be someone I know… I’ve probably already grieved them. And you just said you won’t kill anymore. I’m satisfied with that.” He ran his fingers through Goro’s hair. “So if it happened to be your fault, I’d rather not know for sure. It just mucks things up unnecessarily.”

His astonishment didn’t abate, even as he leaned into Ren’s touch. “Are you really serious?”

“Yeah.”

“I—” His voice cracked. He whispered, “I’ve killed so many people, though.”

“Then beat yourself up about it.” His gaze turned tender. “And I’ll love you anyway, scars and all.”

“Ren… All right.” He shut his eyes, smiling as his guilt steamed into relief. A couple rocky pits remained, but now that Ren had given him permission to move on, he could bury them. Perhaps, in time, they’d bloom into something fresh and new.

 _What_ _i_ _s i_ _t_ _he_ _still begrudges_ _, though?_ one of those pits worried. He shushed it into silence.

 _Don’t you need to explain you weren’t a soldier?_ the other pit warned. He told it to shut up.

Happiness was already so fragile. If Ren would let him have the new beginning he’d sought so desperately through the war, then he’d bury those pits as deep as he needed to.

“So…” Ren rubbed the back of his neck. “Now that that’s clear, how _do_ you feel about me being a pirate?”

Goro let him take the focus and thought for a moment. “Well. Normally, I wouldn’t approve. But if you really are a ‘noble pirate’ as you describe, maybe I don’t mind,” he said slowly. He slipped a hand into Ren’s. “All I have to go on is your word, though. I’d have to see for myself to be sure.”

“So then…”

“Get me out of here. Take me with you. And then I’ll let you know.”

“I will. I swear.” Ren threaded his fingers between Goro’s, his gloved grip smooth and sure. “No matter how long it takes, I’ll find a way to free you.”

Goro smiled. Ren mirrored him. Together, they leaned in. The kiss this time was languid but no less fierce for it: passion at its own pace. It thus took some time before they parted. Afterwards, they gazed into each other’s eyes as they caught their breaths. With slow, deliberate care, Ren took the necklace from his box and held it out to Goro’s neck. Goro nodded slightly and let him clasp it onto him. In return, he clasped the necklace Ren had given him onto his lover. They each leaned back to admire their matching lockets, then met the other’s eyes and smiled again.

“You’ll have to take the furniture back before the end of the month—there’s no getting around that,” Goro said. “But everything else… I’m sure we can find places to hide them from prying eyes.”

Ren grinned. “You’ll make a great pirate yet.” He leaned forward onto the balls of his feet and stood, then held a hand out to Goro. “There aren’t any pictures in these lockets yet. I was thinking we could fix that now. What d’you say?”

He accepted Ren’s hand anew and stood with him. “I’d say your photographer had best get my good side.”

“That should be easy. They’re all good sides.”

“You incorrigible flirt.”

Ren laughed; Goro grinned. Hand in hand, they made their way upstairs.


	15. The Black Mask

Over the next week, it became easier and easier to deal with Ren’s crew. As Goro grew more and more used to them, their presence no longer made him anxious. Haru and Futaba in particular became fast friends, with Ann fairly close behind, thanks to their initial interactions. He and Makoto still had some tension, but… well, they’d never _really_ gotten along. As long as they stayed out of each other’s way, Goro was satisfied.

Yusuke turned out to be a good friend too, if in a different way from the others. Goro admired his relentless passion for art. Never before had he met anyone so true to themself, to the point where they exhibited an unbridled sense of self, even if everyone else thought they were a weirdo. And really, all you had to do to make him happy was talk art with him. That was easy when he came back with a sketched plan of a mural for the living quarters: a panorama of a lush mountain view. For as little as he believed it could happen, Goro loved it, and Yusuke loved that he loved it.

Ryuji and Morgana were somewhat more difficult. Ryuji was so uncouth and, frankly, stupid. While Goro could see he had a good heart, certainly far better than his own, it boggled the mind to think he’d landed the position of first mate. Morgana certainly didn’t disagree; the two of them bickered more than any old couple Goro had ever witnessed. Actually, Ryuji tended to get picked on in general, so the question of his first mate position rose again.

Kasumi… She was very sweet, outgoing, and polite, and she was supportive and friendly to boot, but there was still something familiar about her that he couldn’t place. As much as he wanted to like her, it made him uneasy. If she knew him from somewhere in the past, that meant she could be a time bomb waiting to explode. When he learned that all the crewmates he’d met so far, including Kasumi, were all Persona Users, that _could_ became a _was_. At least Makoto he’d been able to contain; whatever godawful connection he had to Kasumi, Goro was certain he wanted it to stay in the past. He remained polite, but started keeping her at arm’s length.

The rest of the crew, all normals, were a mixed bag. Some of them, like Kasumi, were also familiar, so he couldn’t really relax around them. Still, they all struck him as genuinely good people. If he hadn’t already known they were the pirates known as the Phantoms, he never would have guessed.

One crewmate who _did_ seem like he could relax around was Ichiko Ohya. Part of it was because she’d cheerfully played photographer for him and Ren. She’d also shamelessly teased the two of them for being in a relationship, but it was in such a charming, supportive way that Goro actually enjoyed rather than resented it. When she returned with the developed photographs, he smiled to see her again.

“So here’s _my_ personal favorites, but your mileage may vary!” she chirped, spreading a selection of photos across the dining table like a set of cards. “Either way, I think they turned out pretty good, right?”

Ren, who sat next to Goro and across from Ohya, picked up one of them, a three-quarters angle shot of Goro with an open book in his hands but his eyes on the camera. “Mmm, yeah, this one is cute.”

“You mean _especially_ cute, given that they’re _all_ cute,” Goro corrected, picking a shot of Ren lounging on the couch, legs crossed, arms sprawled across the back, and grinning that devilish grin of his at the camera.

“Especially cute,” Ren agreed, shooting him a fond smile.

“Disgustingly cute,” Ohya chimed in, leaning her chin on one hand.

“The ‘disgustingly’ was unnecessary,” Goro said loftily.

Ohya giggled and set her arms down. “So which ones d’you two like?”

“It really is hard to pick. There’s lots of good pictures,” Ren said, picking up a couple of other photos. “We probably should’ve had you play it straight after all.”

Goro snorted. “This, after you said it would be waste not to make a photo shoot out of it?”

“They’ll look great in an album!” he protested. “Which reminds me: next present, photo album.”

“Assuming you can even remember,” Goro said coyly.

“Oof, now that’s a low blow.” Ren nudged him with an elbow. “And after I got you so many nice things? I’m devastated!”

He smirked. “I’ll be sure to piece the shattered fragments of your psyche back together _very gently_.”

Ren leaned in and purred, “Mmmm, I don’t mind if you’re a little rough, though…”

He leaned in too ‘til their noses barely touched. “I’ll remember you said that tonight.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait!”

Ohya looked back and forth between the two. Goro fully intended on ignoring her—it wasn’t as though sexual innuendo bothered her, considering how much of it she made herself—but then she fixed her attention on Ren and commented in quiet wonder, “Wow. You really are in love.”

Ren blinked at her. “Hm?”

“What makes you say that?” Goro asked, curious despite his better judgment about what he presumed was a matter of Ren’s former lovers.

So it surprised him when Ohya leaned her cheek on her hand again and said, “Oh, normally our captain gets real sensitive about his memory issues.”

“‘Memory issues’?” he echoed. “I’ve noticed he’s a little forgetful sometimes, but…”

“What, he didn’t tell you? It all happened way back when—”

“ _Ohya_.”

Ohya snapped her fingers and made double fingerguns at Ren, who was now glaring at her. “There it is! You could slice through steel with that razor tongue!” She shrugged. “Well, if he didn’t tell you, I’d better not say.”

Goro looked at Ren. “What’s she talking about?”

“It’s nothing,” he snapped. He paused when Goro stared at him, then added in a softer tone, “It’s not a happy story. I don’t like talking about it.”

“I see. I understand.”

“Let’s talk about something more pleasant.” Ren grabbed several photos of himself, splayed them like a hand of cards, and grinned. “Like how hot I look in these pictures. How’re you ever going to pick which one to put in your shiny new locket?”

Goro laughed and let himself be distracted. “Don’t you have a similar problem?”

“Damn, you’re right! How are you always so right?”

“Hmmm… What do you think?”

Ren grinned. “I think it must be because of that giant brain of yours.”

Goro beamed at him. “What an eloquent answer! I’d say it’s evidence of similarly wrinkled gray matter, but the only thing you seem to use your brain for is hormone production.”

“Ichiko-chaaaan, Goro’s being meeeean to meeeeee,” Ren play-whined.

“Boys, boys, you can flirt ‘til the tide comes in _later_ ,” Ohya said, waving her hands downwards at them. “If you can’t make up your minds, just keep all the pics! Sound good?”

“Yup!” he chirped.

“I’ve got more, but they’re not as good,” she added as she stood up. “But if you _reeeeally_ wanna check ‘em out, let me know, all right?”

“Will do.”

“Great! Later, lovebirds!” Ohya grinned as she waved and headed for the stairs. However, before she could actually leave, she paused at their foot. “Oh!”

“Pardon us,” said someone heading down from above; Goro couldn’t see their face from here, but they sounded like a man. “We’re not interrupting, are we?”

“Nope! I was just leaving,” Ohya told him. “Ooh, are those snacks?”

“They sure are!” chirped a second person on the stairs—Kasumi, by the voice.

“Snacks are an excellent way to make a good first impression, in my experience,” the man added.

“Hell yeah I’ll stick around for snacks!”

“Er, but they weren’t for—”

“Hey, Captain! Reverend Maruki and Kasumi-chan brought snacks!” Ohya yelled cheerfully, waving an arm. She reached up and grabbed one, then sauntered back to the table as she munched on the rice cracker.

The man on the stairs sighed, then climbed down the rest of the way with Kasumi. She held a tray of treats, while he carried several canned drinks.

“Hi, Captain! Hi, Goro-kun!” Kasumi chirped, as sunny as ever.

The man bobbed his head at Ren and Goro in turn. “Hello there.”

Goro tensed. Rev. Takuto Maruki, formerly Dr. Takuto Maruki. He was one of the faces he recognized, though, thank god, Maruki would have no way of recognizing him in return. All the same, his guard naturally went up.

Ren, who sat closer to the stairs, didn’t notice Goro’s reaction. “Hey, Maruki. Hey, Kasumi,” he said, lifting a hand in greeting. “What brings you two out here?”

“I was hoping I could get a chance to talk with Goro-kun some, if that’s all right?” Maruki looked from Ren to Goro with a smile. “The first time we met was in a big crowd, and you seemed awfully uncomfortable. I thought, maybe you’d be more relaxed in a smaller, less threatening group.”

“The snacks were my idea!” Kasumi enthused, holding up the tray of cookies, rice crackers, dehydrated shredded calamari and snow pea crisps. She paused, then added, “Well… they were his idea. Snacks are kind of Rev. Maruki’s whole thing. But the _specific_ snacks were my idea!”

Keeping his tone politely neutral, Goro said, “Actually, I was hoping to have some private time with Ren.”

“Oh… Sorry, I understand,” Maruki said, looking crestfallen. He held out the canned drinks he was holding, a selection of tea, beer, and coffee. “We’ll just leave these with you and pay a visit another time, if that’s all right?”

“Nah, come sit with us now,” Ren said, gesturing him and Kasumi over. “We could use your opinion on something.”

Goro shot him a frown. “We could?” he murmured into his ear.

Ren looked at him and nodded. “It’s okay. He actually is as nice as he seems,” he murmured back. “Plus, I want you to get to know him better. He might be able to help you with that chain.”

Goro pursed his lips, but relented and nodded. _It should be fine,_ he reminded himself. _Just be cautious._

Maruki joined them at the dinner table, Kasumi trotting along with him. They set down the tray and drinks. Ren immediately grabbed a can of coffee, Kasumi took a green tea, and Ohya snatched up a beer. They clinked their cans together.

“Cheers!” they chorused, then pulled back the tabs and drank deep.

Goro watched them as Maruki picked a can for himself. He followed suit without looking at the label, but when he saw what he’d chosen, he wrinkled his nose. “Oh. Beer.”

“You don’t like beer?” Ohya uttered in what was probably mock outrage. “What kind of adult are you?”

“One who’s been incarcerated since he was a minor,” Goro replied, a little testily.

“Er, sorry,” Maruki said, chastised despite the fact that Goro hadn’t been addressing him. “That should have been obvious. I should have left it out—the Captain can’t have beer, anyway…”

“It’s fine,” Ren said. “It’s not like he doesn’t have other options.”

Goro tilted his head at him. “Why can’t you have beer?”

“Doctor’s orders. It’s a total bummer,” he complained.

“Huh. Do you have some kind of medical condition?”

“Something like that.”

“What kind?”

“Hey, Goro-chan, are you gonna drink your beer or what?!” Ohya demanded.

He startled at the sudden familiarity. “G-Goro- _chan_?”

“You should, you know! New experiences are what make you an adult!” she persisted, pointing a finger at him around her own can. “But if you’re not gonna, hand it over!”

Ren laughed. “You don’t have to.” He took a sip of his drink and added, “Coffee’s way better, anyway.”

“Beer doesn’t even taste good,” Kasumi added, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t get why Ryuji-kun and Ohya-san like it.”

“It’s an acquired taste! Even coffee’s hella bitter ‘til you get used to it, right?” Ohya protested.

Ren gave her a lopsided smile and glanced at Maruki. “Or if you cut it with enough cream and sugar, right?”

Maruki, who’d picked what appeared to not be coffee so much as coffee-flavored milk, laughed abashedly and rubbed the back of his head. “It seems I’m not much of an adult, myself.”

“Woe! Woe is me! I’m the only adult in a sea of total babies,” Ohya whined. She nudged Goro. “C’mon, Goro-chan, come over to my side already. I’m outnumbered here!”

He smiled despite everything. “All right, all right. I’ll give it a try.” Whether it tasted good or not, there was a certain thrill in drinking something normally forbidden to him. Pulling back the tab, the can clicked open with a sharp spritz of foam. He took a sniff, then a slow swallow. Sure enough, it was rather bitter. He drank it anyway.

“So? What d’you think, Goro-chan?” Ohya prompted.

It occurred to him to tell Ohya to stop using ‘chan’ on his name, but… what was the harm? He actually kind of liked the familiarity. Unlike the beer, about which he answered, “It’s terrible.” He took another drink.

She grinned. “But you’re having it anyway?”

He shrugged and smiled back. “It’s a new experience.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ohya cheered, raising her can. “We’ll turn you into a lush before you know it, Goro-chan!”

“Er, please don’t take her seriously,” Maruki meanwhile said, looking worried as Kasumi broke into giggles.

Ren leaned on Goro’s shoulder. “So are you gonna let me have a sip or what?”

“Ren-kun,” Maruki said, half-exasperated, half-warning.

Goro took another small drink. “Absolutely not. Doctor’s orders.”

Ren snorted and scoffed, but stuck to his canned coffee all the same. He also grabbed several snow pea crisps and crunched in. Ohya grabbed some shredded calamari, while Maruki went for a cookie and Kasumi had a mountain of rice crackers. Goro sampled a little of each. The squid went surprisingly well with the beer. He started to relax again.

“So what were you all up to?” Maruki prompted.

Ren lowered his can. “Looking at pics for our lockets. Speaking of, could you two take a look through? They’re all great and we can’t decide, so a couple of second opinions would help a ton.”

“Sure!” Kasumi chirped, already reaching for the photos.

“Certainly. If I can be of any assistance…” Maruki said, more reserved.

The two of them looked over at the photos for a moment. Eventually he picked up one depicting Ren and Goro sitting together on the couch, leaning together and focused more on each other than the camera, fingers interlaced as they shared a smile.

“Ah, this is a nice shot!” Maruki said. “The two of you look very happy together here.”

“Aww! That _is_ a cute one,” Kasumi agreed, looking over his shoulder.

“Nice lighting. Good angle,” Ohya chimed in from his other shoulder. “Definitely one of my better ones.”

“Maybe you could use this as the picture for one side of the locket, then an individual picture for the other side?” Maruki suggested.

Ren perked. “Ooh, I like that idea.” He searched through the photos anew, sorted them into shots of himself and shots of Goro, and gave the former to Goro. “Let’s take another look!”

Having something to focus on certainly didn’t disagree with him, so he smiled, nodded, and went through the photographs. After more discussion and conversation, they finally settled on a pair of pictures: the shot of Ren that best displayed his most beautiful smile, and a shot of Goro where the light fell on his hair just so. Some careful measurement and a pair of scissors later, their lockets finally displayed pictures of each other within. Goro cupped his between both hands, smiling warmly at Ren’s portrait. Then he closed his hands as if in prayer, and the locket clicked shut between them. Next to him, Ren admired his own locket, then shut it and tucked it under his shirt.

“I really must thank you, Ohya-san,” he said, looking up at her. Next to him, Ren admired his own locket, then shut it and tucked it under his shirt. “These came out wonderfully because of you.”

“Awww, shucks! Anytime, Goro-chan,” she cheered.

“You’ve really improved on your photography, too,” Maruki remarked, smiling at her.

“Yeah, it must be tough to develop photos on a ship!” Kasumi chimed in.

“It’s fine, it’s fine! You do what you gotta,” she replied, waving a hand. Her expression turned wistful as she leaned on the table. “You should’ve seen my old partner’s photographs, though. She was a genius behind the lens.”

Goro cleared his throat, sensing an opportunity to bond further. “Is that how you’re familiar with camera work, Ohya-san? I ask because I’ve been wondering… As I recall, you’re the communications officer on the S.S. Mona, and that doesn’t seem like it would involve much photography.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised! But you’re right, I picked it up initially from before I joined the crew, back when I was a journalist. My partner, Kayo, did the camera work, and I did the writing. We always used each other as sounding boards, so to speak, so I just sort of osmosed the basics from her.”

“May I ask where she is now?”

She lowered her gaze. “In a mental hospital.”

“O-oh, I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Thanks. It’s not fair what happened to her. She was on the edge of a major scoop, and then…” She banged a fist on the table, face curdling with an angry scowl. “That damned Black Mask!”

The entire table went silent. Kasumi’s face in particular paled as Maruki gave her a sharp, worried glance, while Ren’s darkened like a stormy sky.

Meanwhile, Goro’s shoulders seized up. “Excuse me?”

Ohya startled, then grimaced. “Oh—ugh—dammit. Sorry, it’s a long story. Way too long.” She glanced around at the others, worried. “Are you guys okay?”

“Oh—yes—I’m fine,” Kasumi murmured, still pale, a hand pressed to her face. “Just a little bit of a headache, all of a sudden…”

“Maybe you ought to have a glass of water. You could be a bit dehydrated,” Maruki suggested, though something in his expression told Goro he thought the problem lied elsewhere.

Ren said nothing. He simply glowered at the table, then shook his head and returned to neutrality. “It’s fine. No big deal.”

“What’s the issue with the Black Mask?” Goro pressed, despite knowing it was a terrible idea.

“Let’s get you that water, Yoshizawa-san,” Maruki said, gently guiding Kasumi to her feet and to the kitchenette.

She followed his lead, almost limp. “Yeah, okay, Doctor…”

Ohya watched them go, one eye shut as she winced. “Sorry. That was careless of me,” she whispered to Ren. “I just got so mad, remembering…”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I understand.”

“It’s not fine,” Goro pressed quietly, heart hammering on the bars of his rib cage. “Why are you all acting so strangely?”

Ren and Ohya looked at him, then exchanged a glance. He gave her a slight nod, and she slumped but nodded back, then leaned in close to Goro.

“Like I said, it’s a long story. Basically, the Black Mask is this real sicko of an assassin who’s targeted a lot of us or people around us,” she whispered. “For me, in the days before the war, Kayo found out that,” she took on a brief, simpering sneer, “ _His Imperial Majesty_ ,” then back to her normal voice, “was planning an insurrection with dirty money so he could _become_ ‘His Imperial Majesty.’ She caught sight of him making a deal under the table with some corrupt magistrates and a crime boss. At the time, she got away, but then they sent the Black Mask after her. Didn’t kill her, just broke her mind and drove her insane.” She clenched her fists and hissed under her breath, “As if that’s any better!!”

Memories ticked through requested names like a day planner. “Kayo… Murakami?” Goro whispered.

Surprise broke through Ohya’s fury. “Yeah! You’ve heard of her?”

He bowed his head, staring into nothing. He’d expected this from Maruki. Ohya took him completely off-guard. “It’s… horrible. What happened to her.”

“Yeah…” Ohya’s expression softened. “Thanks.” She shook her head, then glanced over at the kitchenette. Maruki was talking quietly to Kasumi, whose head was bowed. “But Sumire-chan’s even worse off.”

“Sumire?” Goro echoed, confused.

“Yeah, uh—oh man, this one’s really bad.” Ohya grimaced. “Rev. Maruki used to be a Persona researcher, and the Yoshizawa twins, Kasumi and Sumire, were a couple of his subjects. Well, you know how the Emperor wants a stranglehold on all demons and Personas, so he sent that bastard after them, too.” She scowled. “That evil fucker killed the rest of Rev. Maruki’s colleagues in cold blood, then murdered Kasumi-chan, right in front of her little sister. Sumire-chan was so traumatized, she thinks she _is_ Kasumi now.”

“It’s fucked up,” Ren added quietly. “But Rev. Maruki wants her to _ease_ through her trauma, so we play along. Not like I…” He trailed off and paused. “Goro? Are you okay?”

Goro shook his head in slow, jerky motions as the rest of him quivered. There was something wrong in Ohya’s retelling. It wasn’t just that Kasumi had died in front of Sumire: Kasumi had jumped into the sword stroke meant to take Sumire’s life. He knew because the story had brought it all back.

* * *

 _“_ Take out the remnants of Wakaba Isshiki’s research team. _”_

 _Those had been his orders. The researchers had bought themselves some time, going underground after Isshiki had b_ _een murdered_ _and leaving behind the original documentation for Shido’s team to copy and destroy. Perhaps if they hadn’t taken copies for themselves t_ _o_ _carry on Isshiki’s work, Shido would have allowed them to live. Finding out there was a team attempting to make their own Persona Users, though… That was unforgivable._

 _The man in the black mask peered down into the facility from above through an elevated ceiling window._ _It was in a seedy part of Tokyo, full of foreigners and criminals, largely overlooked and ignored by the glossier parts of the metropolis. But one of Shido’s team had noticed that_ _energy expenditure was far higher than normal in this particular area. T_ _he d_ _etective’s investigations had turned up the truth. Now it was time for t_ _he assassin_ _._

 _Below, several adults and two teenagers were talking among each other, seemingly wrapping up for the night._ Good work tonight, _he could see them mouthing back and forth as they saved their work and shut down their computers. One of the younger researchers, Dr. Maruki, said that with a bright smile to a pair of teenage girls. O_ _ne of them replied with s_ _unny cheer_ _; the other replied with gloomy, downcast eyes. They were around the assassin’s age, maybe a little younger._ (Had he felt bad about that? That much, he no longer remembered.)

 _Easing the ceiling window open, he waited until the group was on their way out_ _of the room_ _, their backs to him. Then he dropped down inside, already summoning Loki, so that when he startled his victims with the sound of his landing, darkness was already descending upon them._

 _The girls and Dr. Maruki were lucky. He’d happened to check his pockets for his keys and had turned while the assassin was summoning. He comprehended what was happening with widened eyes, then shouted and launched himself at the girls, shoving all three of them to the floor. The other researchers turned, but their reflexes were slower._ _Loki unleashed a relentless hail of_ _m_ _istletoe_ _arrows to riot through them and gun them down_ _without mercy,_ _leaving them lifeless chunks of meat to c_ _olor the gray concrete red_ _._

_The gloomy girl had screamed, terrified and high-pitched. The cheerful girl scrambled to her feet, grabbed a nearby rolling chair, and hurled it at the assassin. In the moment he’d had to dodge, Dr. Maruki hurried back to his feet and ran out of the room, pulling the girls behind him._

_The assassin couldn’t allow that. However, he knew he had a little time. He pulled his gun and pursued the survivors._

_Naturally, he found them at the front entrance. Dr. Maruki was turning the knob without success, swearing in fear._ _He wouldn’t get through; the assassin had taken the time to jam the knob from outside._ _The two sisters were nearby him, the cheerful one banging on the window leading outside. She wouldn’t get through; it was barred, ironically to prevent looters and thieves from coming inside. The gloomy sister watched them both fretfully, but froze up like a doe when she glanced around and saw him approaching_ _._

 _“D…_ _Doc… Sis…” she squeaked, eyes wide with terror. It was no good. Neither of them heard her._ _Only the assassin did._

“If you can, take the experimental Persona Users alive. They might be useful to us. _” Those had also been his orders._ _But he had no intention of following them._

_“Persona,” he intoned._

_Behind and above him, he sensed Loki arise, his black-and-white striped figure twirling into existence before settling onto a massive blade. Both he and his Persona jeered at the weak little girl who now c_ _owered before_ _them._

 _“P…_ _Persona! Persona!!” she called, voice shrill. A glittering, wispy cloud rose before her, then dissipated without effect._

 _The assassin laughed coldly._ _While it was clear_ _from that pitiful demonstration that_ _she had the potential—that she_ would _be a User if she could just unlock what her other self needed to_ _fully_ _materialize—just having potential wouldn’t be enough._ _He_ _raised his_ _free_ _hand, and Loki mirrored him, lifting Lævateinn i_ _n_ _a liquid motion. The girl stared at him, and Death reflected in her eyes._

 _“N_ _o_ _!” Abruptly, the other girl,_ _who’d turned at the sound of his laughter,_ _jumped out_ _a_ _nd shoved_ _her out of the way—a_ _nd herself_ in _the way_ _. “S_ _UMIRE, WATCH OU_ _—!”_

 _He was already mid-thrust when she’d moved._ _Loki buried Lævateinn deep in and through her t_ _orso_ _._

 _The_ _gloomy girl hit the floor, glasses falling askew half-off her face. She stared up at her sister, skewered on the end of Loki’s sword. The cheerful girl’s hair_ _tumbled as she slumped,_ _her eyes staring into eternity_ _. Loki withdrew his blade, and she fell to the f_ _loor_ _like a marionette with its strings cut. Blood pooled in all directions._

 _“Yoshizawa-san!!” Dr. Maruki shouted,_ _whirling around. It was already too late. H_ _orror overto_ _ok_ _his expression._

 _The first girl trembled. “Sis…_ _?_ _” she whispered._ _She fell to her knees next to her sister and shook her, as if that might make any difference. “No…_ _no, no, no_ _!!” She threw her arms around the lump of meat that was once her sister and tearfully howled, “N_ _OOOOOO_ _!!”_

 _He’d hesitated then. Oh, it happened in stories—books, and movies, and the like—but he’d never before seen a_ _real human being_ _throw themselves into_ _the path of death_ _to save a_ _nother’s_ _life. Certainly not family._ Certainly _not family._ _He stared down at the twins_ _and felt like he was hallucinating._

_Dr. Maruki rushed over to the girl and tried to pull her off her sister. “Sumire-san! We have to get out of here! Please, get up!!”_

_“I_ _can’t_ _! We can’t leave without my sister!” she sobbed._

 _T_ _he assassin_ _shook his head. He had his mission. The girl was already dead, and her sister and the doctor were to follow. That was all there was to it._

 _“Loki,” he murmured, and his Persona reappeared w_ _ith a roar_ _. Loki swung, aiming to take Dr. Maruki and the girl out with a single blow—_

_Only for a second-story window to shatter. He whirled around to see a familiar coated figure smashing in feet-first by a wire, which disconnected from his wrist as he sailed down. He fell into a sideways roll and came up in a perfect three-point landing._

_Before him, darkness_ _billowe_ _d_ _out and materializing into a winged, coated man._ _With a booming cackle, the Persona brought down his cane towards Loki, who half-turned to block it with his sword. The Persona’s human pulled a handgun and trained it on the assassin. The assassin bared his teeth in a snarl,_ _pulse quickening in equal parts anger and h_ _unger_ _._

 _“_ You _,” he’d growled._

 _“_ _Me,” Joker had re_ _torted, and so too had his gun_ _._

_The bulletproof vest that the assassin wore under his outfit kept it from being a fatal blow, but he staggered back all the same. He turned that into a backwards roll and came up on his feet with his own gun, which he fired three times back at his enemy. Perhaps anticipating his move, Joker hurled himself to one side, and the two sprinted around each other as they let their bullets fly._

_Above them, Loki and Arsène pushed off each other’s weapons, then called forth more deadly darkness in a pair of Eiga_ _on_ _spells._ _Each of them hurled their magic at the other, but to n_ _o_ _effect; both of them were already inured to the dark._ _Their little way of giving each other a wink and a shove._

_Soon both of them were out of bullets. Joker had maneuvered himself between the assassin and his targets, and traded his handgun for a gleaming knife. The assassin faced him with cold eyes, a jagged saber, and a slow, sneering smile._

_“You just can’t stay away from me, can you?”_ _he’d taunted._

 _Joker had smirked back,_ _there and gone like a shooting star._ _It was still good enough to make the assassin’s heart r_ _ace_ _._ _J_ _oker_ _glanced over his shoulder at Dr. Maruki and the girl. “I’ll cover you. Run,” he commanded._

 _“Th-thank you,” Maruki had stammered_ _before dragging the girl from her dead sister._ _She struggled for a second, then slumped, dead-eyed, into hopelessness._

 _The assassin stepped into his u_ _sual_ _battle stance—left arm and foot forward, the rest of his body angled sideways to present as little of a target as possible. “None of you will leave here alive,” he j_ _eer_ _ed. “Loki!! Destroy them all!!”_

 _Loki brandished his blade in a flourish_ _and_ _c_ _ast_ _Megidolaon. As it seared down, Joker_ _gestured for Arsène to cover the retreating Dr. Maruki and his subject while he braced himself for impact. Both of them were blown backwards, but the assassin’s victims were untouched, and Joker remained on his feet._ _He panted for a couple seconds from his injuries; then he bared his teeth in a broad, cocky grin, tapped his knife on his shoulder, and made the ‘come get some’ gesture at the assassin._

_“Arrogant bastard,” he’d seethed, but as he’d launched himself into an attack with his saber, his heart had sung._

_In that way, he’d let Joker manipulate him into his pace, into forgetting his targets, into letting them escape. How could he resist? No one else could withstand him like Joker did. No one else made him feel this way. He could have even loved him, if he hadn’t loathed him so much._

_Joker eventually retreated, calling Arsène to smash the door open and allow him to retreat. The assassin had given chase, but he’d gotten away. There’d been no sight of Maruki and his charge either. The assassin returned to the warehouse, with only cooling bodies for company._

_He’d set it all on fire before he, too, fled into the night. Getting rid of evidence was vital, and arson was common in this part of the city._

_The next day, after the flames had been extinguished, he returned in his day persona to investigate the_ _remains of the_ _fire. He’d been able to confirm the deaths of four of the researchers and the one girl, but Dr. Maruki and the other girl remained at large._ _After manipulating the crime scene and the evidence and concluding with the police that an arsonist had gotten caught up in his own crime and died with the residents, he went to report to Shogun Shido._

 _Naturally, Shido hadn’t praised him for his successes, only berated him for his failures. He weathered it with bowed head_ _and steeled spine_ _, thinking of Joker, Maruki, and the_ _g_ _irl who’d survived with dead eyes_ _._

* * *

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up,” Ohya said, wincing. “Figures that Black Mask would make even other guys on his side freak out.”

Throat dry, Goro whispered, “I—um—”

Ren shook his head. “It’s not your fault.” He sat up straight. “Actually, thinking about it, there’s a little good news about him. Right, Goro?”

He jerked towards him. “Huh? Wha?”

“You know? What you told me about the Black Mask?”

He stared. His mind was a blank sheet; he didn’t know in the slightest what Ren meant.

Maruki returned then, pulling out his chair and seating himself. “Sorry about that. Yoshizawa-san will be all right for now,” he murmured, glancing over his shoulder. Goro followed his line of sight to see Kasumi—no, Sumire—humming to herself as she filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove. “She’s going to make us some coffee fresh.”

Ren’s eyebrows rose. “She is?”

“Well… she’s going to make it from instant,” Maruki admitted. “Don’t make that face; it’s something to take her mind off things.”

He sighed. “I know.” He gazed at Ka-Sumire with melancholy sympathy. “It’s… so hard, when you lose yourself.”

Goro stared at him. He said nothing. His throat wouldn’t work right.

Ohya grimaced. “Yeah… I can only imagine how you and Kayo and Sumire-chan feel. So many of us lost someone to that bastard, though—me, her, Futaba-chan, Haru-chan… The list goes on.”

Nausea bubbled up inside Goro as he swayed on his seat. How… how many of his victims’s relatives were a part of Ren’s crew? Ren by himself was bad enough, but if there were many more—

“But at least you got away in one piece, right, Reverend?” Ohya added.

Maruki pursed his lips. “Yes… I wish I could have saved both of them. Looking after Yoshizawa-san is the least I can do after failing to protect them.”

Ren bowed his head. “…Yeah.”

“Ahh, I didn’t mean—you did everything you could, Captain,” he added quickly, eyes widening. He offered him a bracing smile. “I’m grateful to you. Really. If not for you, we definitely would have died that day.”

Goro bolted up ramrod-straight. The quiet conversation faded from his ears as the roar of his blood filled them instead.

That night had been one of his many encounters with Joker. It hadn’t been the first, and it wouldn’t be the last. Some of them were just the two of them; some of them included the rest of Joker’s cell of rebels; some of them, like that night, involved civilians to be slain or saved.

The thing, though, was this: _only Joker had come to Dr. Maruki’s rescue that night_.

Joker’s true identity had turned out to be Akira Kurusu, the young barista from Leblanc. The boy he’d been smitten with, who had become his rival. He’d suspected it for some time, but confirming it only made Goro Akechi more obsessed with him than ever. When he’d finally slain him, he’d thought it would be the peak of his career, that only accomplishing his revenge was left. But it had left him empty, and then Shido had had him captured, and his whole life had tumbled down around him and left him with nothing but regrets. His greatest regret was how his rivalry with Joker—with Kurusu-kun—had ended. And now Kurusu-kun was…

Goro clutched his head. No. No no no, there had to be some other explanation. Maybe Ren had been a back-up to lead Maruki and Sumire away while Joker had played distraction ( _you know that’s not true,_ his other self whispered), maybe Ren had bandaged t he two up after t he y ’d gone underground ( _you’re f_ _ucking delusional_ _,_ his other self growled), maybe Ren had… Ren had…

_Maybe Ren Amamiya had been Akira Kurusu all along._

The idea rang with cold clarity inside him. Even so, Goro clutched his face and shook his head and clung hold to the denial that had sustained him until now.

 _It can’t be. It can’t be it can’t be it can’t be it CAN’T, Ren can’t be Kurusu-kun, I_ killed _Kurusu-kun, I SHOT HIM IN THE HEAD, I—_

A sudden realization made Goro’s thoughts freeze. He stared down at his left hand. His dominant hand. The hand with which he’d pulled the trigger. He remembered the feel of Ren’s curls as he’d run that hand through them not so long ago. There’d been a patch of rough skin, something he hadn’t been able to identify at the time…

He reached up his left hand to touch Ren’s face. Ren glanced at him, pausing in his conversation, and his gaze gentled. A small smile curved up his lips. Goro didn’t smile back. Instead, he pushed up his hand and Ren’s bangs with it.

There, on the side of Ren’s forehead, was a small, circular scar, about the size of a bullet’s entry wound.


	16. The Truth

There were times when the summer light streaming through a window would subtly shift—it would grow a little paler, the dust motes dancing within it would grow darker, as everything seemed to settle into a light layer of despair. There were times late in the summer when a cicada’s cry would warble and trail off, the tone arcing downwards until it met its end in silence.

That was exactly how Goro felt as he stared at the scar on Ren’s forehead. As if everything that was good had just come to a quiet end.

Ren had tensed up. “Goro, could you…” But he trailed off, leaving his request incomplete.

So Goro ignored it. He instead gently, lightly traced his thumb over the scar. “How did this happen?” he murmured.

Ren’s eyelashes drooped. Perhaps he, too, felt that sensation of a golden summer turning pale. He sighed and averted his eyes. “…I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

“What do you mean?” he whispered.

“I mean—” Ren cut himself off to bite his lip. He looked over at Ohya and Maruki. The two of them grimaced at him and each other, then got up.

“Yoshizawa-san!” Maruki called. “Sorry to stop you, but Goro-kun and the Captain need a bit of privacy.”

She looked up from her task, blinking. “What? Really? Oh, all right…” Visibly disappointed, she turned off the stove, then moved to leave with him and Ohya. She gave Goro and Ren a bright smile and a wave as she passed. “See you guys later! It was nice talking to you again, Goro-kun!”

He looked away and didn’t respond. In the corner of his eye, he could see her dismay; then Maruki ushered her upstairs, Ohya in their wake. Soon, all three were gone, the creak of their footsteps leaving across the boarding plank to the S.S. Mona.

In silence, Ren stood up, took Goro’s hands into his own, and led him to the couch. Goro followed him, feeling so deeply sick he thought he might vomit. His head swam as the two of them sat together. For all his fear, he couldn’t bear himself to let go of Ren’s hands, and clung for an eternity of seconds when Ren began to pull away.

But he did pull away. “I told you before I eventually got captured by Shido’s goons, and that I almost died,” Ren murmured. He pointed to his scar. “This is how I got away.”

Goro licked his lips. His mouth still felt dry. “What do you mean?”

“I mean they executed me. Shot me in the head. Figured that was good enough, I guess, and threw my body in a ditch or a corpse cart or something. I’m not totally sure; I don’t have a lot of clear memories of that day. But somehow I survived that shot, and had enough wits left to not let on that I had.”

Ah. How casually the dead came back to life.

“Later,” he continued, “Dr. Takemi and the Boss found me, realized I was still alive, and dragged me out of there to get me patched up. Since I was already ‘dead,’ it wasn’t hard to get a new identity and lay low.”

“A new name,” he whispered.

Ren nodded. “You guessed it, huh. ‘Ren Amamiya’ is just what I started going by after then.” He glanced away. “My old name… was Akira Kurusu.”

Goro already knew it. He’d known it for a long time, really. The sheer force of his denial had been the only thing blinding him. Even so, he felt as though he’d been run through with cold steel.

Ignorant of his feelings, Ren smiled with no warmth or humor. “Rehab was hell. I spent literal years trying to be able to do basic thinking again. You remember how I told you like I sometimes wonder who ‘I’ am? That whole shitstorm is why.” He hunched over as his smile vanished. “You have no idea what it’s like to feel like you should be you, but you can’t do any of the things you used to do. ‘Akira Kurusu’ feels like the ghost of a past life, not my actual… me.”

His nausea intensified. “Oh…?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s hard to describe, but it’s like—if I broke a plate, and I managed to glue it back together, but the shape is off and there’s little pieces missing everywhere. Yeah, it functions. But it’s not the same.” He shook his head. “Still, it’s better now than it was for years. Especially at the beginning. Sure, I’d survived, but—Goro, if you’d asked me back then what one plus one made, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. I _still_ have trouble recognizing faces. And, of course, you already know sometimes I forget things.”

Goro’s eyes widened. His vision blurred. He hung his head.

“Hey—hey, it’s okay,” Ren said, at first with alarm, then with care. He brushed his thumb along Goro’s face to brush his tears away, but his touch was so tender, so loving, it only brought more. “It was hell, but I made it through. After busting my ass off re-learning things, I got back most of my planning skills, almost all of my reading and math comprehension, and damn near all of my social skills. Actually, I’m told I’m _more_ social now.”

That was certainly true. Kurusu-kun had always been much more quiet, far more reserved. That passion hadn’t changed, though—only the way in which he expressed it. For all Ren—Akira—might be uncertain of who he was, to Goro now that the veil had been torn asunder, they were unmistakably the same. And that made him feel so…

Ren was still talking. “Dr. Takemi says, all things considered, I’m at about 90, 95% capacity compared to the way I used to be.” A laugh on his breath, he concluded, “Which is pretty fucking good! I got my brains blown out and I’m only up to 10% dumber for it. How about that?”

Goro sobbed and shook his head.

Ren moved his hands to Goro’s waist and tugged him closer. “And hey,” he added, voice turning sultry, “I know what one plus one makes now…”

Goro shoved him away. “ _Stop it!!_ ”

He let him go and rocked back. For a moment, silence, punctuated by Goro’s weeping, reigned. Then Ren clasped his hands in his lap.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t… exactly, trying to hide it from you… but I didn’t really want you to know, either. It’s a horrible story. I didn’t… want you to get upset. Or pity me. Or… be disgusted by me.”

That last one gave Goro enough pause to compose himself. He pulled a tissue from a box on the coffee table and cleaned his face. “Wh-why would I be disgusted by you?”

Ren chuckled ruefully, glancing away as he clutched his right hand to that side of his face. “I don’t know. But it’s not about you, for the record. I’ve always worried about it ever since I got enough brainpower back _to_ worry.”

“…Is that why you tend to be flighty in romance?”

Another rueful chuckle. “It’s one reason.”

Goro clutched his hands to his chest and hung his head. “…Then why do you love me?”

“Didn’t I already tell you? Well, I get it if you need a reminder,” Ren joked. Goro looked up at him, and he stroked Goro’s face. “We’re two of a kind.”

“Ren…” Almost reassured, Goro shut his eyes and leaned into his touch. A moment later, though, he focused back on Ren’s scar. “What do you remember about who shot you?” he asked softly.

He sighed a little, expression turning grim. “I know it was the Black Mask. One of the little bits I remember is him laughing as he pointed his gun at my head. We’d fought a few times before then, so I guess he was gloating about finally getting to finish me off.”

Goro averted his eyes, guilt mixing with his nausea. “Do you… hate him?”

Ren rubbed his scar as he stared off into space. “Not much point in hating the dead—is what I’d like to say. That’d be really mature, right? But… I really did go through hell trying to push the pieces of me back together. I still don’t really have them all, and I might never. When I think about that, I get…” His eyelids drooped as his expression darkened. “…so fucking angry.”

Goro’s eyelids drooped in kind. “You mentioned before there’s only one thing you hold a grudge over. Is this it?”

He nodded once.

He clutched his own shoulders. “…If it turns out he is alive somehow, and you happened to meet him somewhere… what would you do?”

“What would I _do_? I… mm.” Ren thought for a moment; then he laughed a little. “I’d wrap my hands around his scrawny neck and choke out that piece of shit.”

The despair he’d forecast fell light and cold like snow on Goro’s heart. “I… see. So you want revenge.”

Ren considered this, too. Ultimately, he nodded. “Yeah.”

Goro smiled, soft and full of pain. After a breath or two, he leaned into Ren and rested his head on his lover/friend/victim/enemy’s shoulder. “I hope you get more satisfaction out of it than I did.”

Ren stroked his hair, his shoulder, his arm. He was so gentle, so caring. It was just so unfair. “Thanks.”

For as long as he could, Goro clung to the present moment. He breathed in Ren’s scent; he basked in his warmth; he melted under his touch. He prayed with all his heart to the gods for time to stop, to let this last wonderful moment last forever. But naturally, the gods didn’t answer his prayer. They were in the middle of punishing him, after all.

So at length, he drew away and whispered, “Fuck me.”

Ren stared blankly. “What?”

“Fuck me. And be rough. I want you to hurt me.”

“ _What_?”

He gripped Ren’s arms. “ _Do it_! Do… do whatever you want to me. I give myself to you. I’m your plaything. I’m yours to do with as you will.”

“Goro, I’m not—I’m not going to hurt you…”

“ _DO IT._ ” He dug in his nails and hissed, “Do it, you _coward_.”

But Ren didn’t stop staring. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You, if you’d just _bend me over and pound me already_.”

He laughed a little, breathless. “Goro, I admit that’s kind of hot, but your brand of dirty talk is also putting me off a little?”

“ _Please_ … please… please, if you really feel what you feel for me, brand me with your passion. I want to feel all of you inside of me.”

“You sound more like you want to be punished, and I don’t understand why.”

Goro laughed, full of hopelessness, and kissed him full on the mouth. As he suspected, Ren put up only token resistance before revving up to him. When they pulled apart, Goro clasped his face between his hands and whispered against his lips, “ _Please_.”

Ren hesitated. Then he kissed him again and carried him to bed.

It didn’t go at all the way Goro had pleaded. It went exactly the way he had pleaded. Ren did as he wished with him: his touch was firm and sure, his kisses brimmed with passion, and he didn’t hurt him at all. When Goro cried out, it was from pleasure, not pain. When Goro trembled, it was from desire, not distress. Ren swept him away in a river of sensation sublime, all while whispering praise and adoration into his sweat-slick skin.

He felt wanted.

He felt needed.

He felt loved.

He felt awful.

Panting, arms tangled, they cooled down. Ren still looked at him with tender eyes and a fond smile, and brushed his bangs out of his face. Goro didn’t stop him. He told him to do with him as he pleased, after all.

“Are you feeling any better now?” Ren murmured.

“You weren’t rough with me,” he murmured back.

“Did you _actually_ want me to be rough? Because I don’t think you did. I got the vibe like you were trying to use me as a way to hurt yourself.”

Ashamed, Goro averted his eyes and said nothing.

“Mmm. I thought so.” Ren stroked his hair, slow and soothing. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. And… I’m pretty sure I get what’s wrong.”

He shot him an alarmed stare. “Y-you do?”

He nodded. “It was all that talk about the Black Mask, right?”

Goro swallowed hard and nodded back.

“I thought so. That was when you started acting weird.” Ren gave him a crooked smile. “See? I might be up to 10% dumber now, but I’m still on the ball sometimes.”

He shook his head slowly. “That’s not funny.”

Ren’s smile faded. Then he stroked Goro’s hair again. “Yeah, it really isn’t. But that doesn’t mean you have to get depressed about it, Goro. It’s not your fault.”

“Wha—?” Goro pushed himself up to gawk at him, flabbergasted. “What do you mean, it’s not my fault?”

“I mean it’s not your fault,” Ren repeated firmly, turning on his side. “You and the Black Mask might’ve been on the same side, and you both might’ve killed a bunch of people during the war, but that doesn’t mean you’re the same as him. You don’t need to feel guilty about something someone else did.”

 _Ren, I am literally the same as him. I_ am _the Black Mask._

Goro knew he should say it. The words formed on his tongue, even. But they died on the backs of his lips and were stillborn as sighs. He sank back into Ren’s arms and buried his face in Ren’s chest.

“Let me guess,” Ren said then, the edge of his mouth quirking up. “‘I’m still a murderer and a criminal, and I deserve to be punished’?”

“Good guess,” he mumbled.

“Too bad. I still love you.”

Goro’s heart skipped a beat. He peeked up at him. Ren smiled back at him, and it was like staring into the face of a boddhisatva. God. He really could look angelic when he wanted to. Goro wondered how rapidly Ren would switch to demonic if he knew the truth. He set his head back down.

“Ren?” he murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you love me?”

“You really don’t believe me, do you?”

“I just… want to know what about me appeals to you so much.”

“Mmm. Okay.” He stroked Goro’s hair slowly. “Well, I guess the obvious start is that you’re hot as hell. Like, damn, boy, you’re super-gorgeous. You sure didn’t get _that_ from your shitty dad.”

As low as his mood was, Goro couldn’t help but chuckle. Ren’s smile warmed.

“You’re smart,” he continued. “You’re clever, and you’re fun to talk to. Fun to argue with, too. You’ve got a certain aura of mystery around you.”

“Me? A mystery?” Goro uttered.

“What, you think you’re not?”

“I never really thought of myself that way…” He considered for a moment, then added, “But I see why you say that.”

“Right? Mysteries are exciting.” Ren brushed Goro’s bangs back. “ _You’re_ exciting. Maybe you don’t think so, locked up in this lighthouse like you are, but my heart beats faster just looking at you.”

For the first time, Goro wondered if Ren’s body remembered what he himself did not. If he was conflating the strong emotions of hate and fear for his treacherous enemy with love for and attraction to a handsome stranger.

Then he wondered if he was projecting.

“What else?” he asked softly.

“Hmmm… You have good taste in literature and music. You’re a good listener. You’ve got an interesting take on life, so you’re good to listen _to_. And you can be kind of cranky and uptight sometimes, but you’ve got a good heart. And I’m certain you’re about to say you don’t, but Goro, if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have saved my life and tended to me. You care. You’re _passionate_. You’ve just been alone too long, and it’s got you doubting yourself. Once we get you out of here, I just know you’ll fully bloom.” He stroked Goro’s cheek. “Like a rose.”

Goro gazed at him with damp eyes. It would be so nice to be able to believe him. But if he knew the truth… He took a deep breath. “I betrayed someone I loved once.”

Ren barely reacted. He simply prompted him with, “Yeah?”

So though Goro hadn’t intended to make a story out of it, he added, “It was right before the war ended and I was imprisoned.” He paused to let his gaze linger on Ren’s attentive, oblivious expression. Then, carefully, he continued, “There was someone who’d been a consistent thorn in Shido’s side. It turned out to be someone I’d… I suppose ‘befriended’ is too strong a word. But I thought highly of him. We had a… rapport, of sorts. He… intrigued me.”

“What happened with him?” Ren, dear, precious, up-to-10% stupider Ren wondered.

Goro’s lashes drooped. “We were on opposing sides, though we didn’t know that when we met. Eventually he was captured. And… I didn’t let him go.”

“I see.”

“I loved him, but I also hated him. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say I resented him. Back then, I had fame, prestige, and respect, but all of it was founded on lies. I maintained a false image just to scrabble desperately at some sense that someone wanted me around.” Goro gripped Ren’s arms. “He… he wasn’t like that. When we first met, he’d been deeply wounded by something. He had a mistrustful, almost feral look in his eye. But he was never weak. And as time went on, he only grew stronger. He gained acceptance, power, true friends… and he never stopped being his genuine self. I admired him, and at the same time, I envied him. He was the one person I didn’t want to lose to. But I’d already lost in all the ways that mattered, and that made me desperate. So, as the war peaked, I lured him into a trap, captured him, and then…” He swallowed hard. “I killed him.”

For a moment, Ren said nothing. Then, softly, he asked, “Do you regret it?”

“Yes,” Goro replied before he had the chance to think about it. He hesitated, but—why take it back? It was true. “At the time, it was an easy choice. I’d committed myself to my revenge, and had bloodied my hands for it time and time again. What was once more? And by killing him, I thought, finally, I’d be the victor in our rivalry. I was excited—even delighted, at the time, to do the deed.” He leaned his forehead on Ren’s shoulder. “…But afterwards, I felt hollow. It was the race, not the finish line, that made me feel alive. But back then, I was extremely results-oriented.” He chuckled bitterly. “I was such a fool. The only results of my betrayal was getting betrayed in turn.”

“At least you’re still alive,” Ren said. While his tone was gentle, Goro thought he heard some recrimination in it.

So: “I suppose,” he conceded. “It’s a better fate than I deserve. After six and a half years of solitary, I’ve had plenty of time to reflect.” He breathed out a long, weary sigh. “…I wish I could go back and do it all over. But it’s that very desire that led me down that path in the first place. I wanted to start over, to have a new beginning as someone people would want and love… Instead, I crushed any chance I had of that with my own two hands.” He paused. Then, tight with restrained emotion, he murmured, “You must hate me for what I’ve done.”

“What? Why would I hate you?” was Ren’s prompt, ignorant reply.

Goro shut his eyes. “Nothing. Never mind.”

So Ren fell silent, and so did Goro. For a time, they simply held each other, listening to the other breathe.

But eventually: “Ren?”

“Mm?”

“Did you… have anyone like that? Back then?”

“Like what?”

His words pricked Goro’s heart like a thorn. “A rival,” he clarified dully.

“A rival, huh… Now that you mention it, I did.”

Goro lifted his head. “…Oh?”

For a moment, Ren only stared at the ceiling. Then he blinked over at him. “What, did you want to know more?”

He swallowed. “I’m… curious.” He paused, then added carefully, “Did you care for him…?”

Ren burst out laughing. “What? No! I hated his guts!”

Goro’s guts curdled in turn. “………oh.”

Oblivious, Ren cheerfully continued, “He was such a smarmy, stuck-up, fake-ass piece of shit. I couldn’t stand him at all. Sometimes it was all I could do not to punch him in his stupid face.”

Goro said nothing.

“But… did I care for him, huh… Actually, maybe. Actually, yeah.” He stared back up at the ceiling. “I didn’t like him, but he meant a lot to me.”

He was going to get whiplash from all the emotional back-and-forth Ren was giving him. Even so, Goro’s pulse quickened. Schooling his tone into neutrality, he asked, “How so?”

“I met him right after I moved to Tokyo. I hadn’t moved because I wanted to—back in my hometown, there was this thing that happened… Then-Shogun Shido and his war camp showed up to rest and resupply, and my village gave them a warm welcome. I mean, you don’t exactly want to get on the bad side of a bunch of guys with swords and guns, right? But also my dad was a supporter of his.” His expression darkened. “There was a big celebration, and a bunch of guys got drunk, including Shido. He got handsy with a woman, and she didn’t like it, so I tried to stop him. But since he was drunk, he ended up falling over and hitting himself.

“Well, that _really_ pissed him off. He accused me of attacking him and had me seized on the spot. Would’ve cut my fucking head off if my dad hadn’t _nobly_ stepped up to disown and banish me instead.”

It wasn’t an unfamiliar story. That was why Goro didn’t interrupt to wonder how Ren’s father had enough authority to prevent his son’s execution; he already knew that man had been the leader of that country village.

“My mom didn’t do anything. Just stood by and watched. Same with my friends, my extended family, my teachers, my neighbors… Everyone,” he said softly. “Except for the lady I saved. She snuck me a gym bag of essentials and a little money, and gave me a map to Tokyo and a letter of introduction to the Boss of this café called Leblanc. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I went there. The Boss didn’t like me at first, but he took pity on me, I guess, so he let me live in the attic in exchange for working part-time for free. Helped me get into a local school, too, though he said that was because he didn’t want me getting into trouble.

“For me back then, it didn’t matter either way. I’d lost everything. My friends, my home, my life… my dreams.” Ren quieted. “I was angry at the whole world. Angry, and frustrated, and in despair. The system drilled into my head that I was helpless, and I almost bought it, too. I was prepared to give up on everything.

“And then _he_ showed up.”

Goro licked his lips. “Yes…?”

“Everything he did, everything he said, pissed me right the hell off.” Ren laughed a little. “It’s honestly kind of funny thinking back on it. He was such a shiny, look-at-me-I’m-so-perfect kind of guy. But he also just oozed this sense of insincerity. He’d act like some kind of goody-two-shoes while insulting me to my face. Drove me fucking crazy.

“But he also lit a fire back in me. I didn’t want him looking down on me anymore, so I threw my all into competing with him. Show him I wasn’t the loser he thought I was, you know?” He scratched his cheek. “Kind of pathetic, when I look back on it. But it motivated me. I awoke to my Persona, made some incredible friends, started my own insurrection cell, and took back a place for myself, just to show him up.”

Goro couldn’t help but laugh. “Really?”

“Well… That’s how it felt, sometimes.” Ren smiled at bygone memories. “I think… the best part about him is that he took me seriously. When I wanted to compete with him, he took me on. He even encouraged me. He was fucking obnoxious about it, but looking back, I think he wanted to see me challenge him.”

A genuine smile lifted Goro’s lips. So at least some of his feelings had come across. “I think he liked you.”

Ren’s smile faded. “You think?”

“I do.”

He stared back at the ceiling and said nothing.

A meager hope made Goro prompt, “What… was his name? Your rival’s, I mean.”

“Huh? Uh… What was it… Ake… Akegawa? Akegata? Akegiri? None of those feel right, but there was a G sound in there _some_ where _…_ ”

His eyes lidded. “Akechi?”

“Ah, yeah, that was it! Akechi… Something-or-other Akechi. What was it…?”

“Goro,” said Goro.

Ren blinked. “Huh?”

“Goro Akechi. That was his name.”

“Oh. Huh, how did you… Wait. _Goro_ Akechi?”

He chuckled, soft and light. “Yes.”

Slowly, Ren said, “But then that means you—”

“Yes. I am him.” He swallowed hard. “And I’m the Black Mask.”


	17. The Hope of New Beginnings

For a moment, Ren didn’t react. He simply stared at him as if he hadn’t heard or parsed his words. Goro held his breath and waited. It had taken every shred of his nerve to admit the truth; he didn’t have it in him for an encore.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Ren then jerked up into a sit, slapping the sheets off and away. Carefully, Goro sat up as well. Ren was still staring at him in seeming disbelief, but he could see the tension in his jaw, the bunching of his muscles.

Eventually, Ren growled, “That’s not funny.”

“I agree. It’s not,” Goro said softly.

He stared a moment more. Then he flung himself off the bed and stormed to the bathroom. Small favors: he didn’t slam the door behind him. The sound of rushing water burst on a short while later, though. All in all, Ren was taking it better than Goro had dared to hope.

Of course, that didn’t mean he was taking it _well_. Every so often, he heard a _thump_ from inside the bathroom, as if of someone banging on a tiled wall. A couple times they came in threes. Goro leaned his head on the windowsill and watched the sky turn colors.

Eventually, the water squeaked off. Several minutes later, Ren emerged, a towel around his shoulders. He got dressed and sat on the couch, elbows on his knees. The dimming light glinted off the locket hanging from his neck.

Then he looked at Goro. “You should get a shower, too.”

He looked back at him. Ren’s poker face could give a statue a run for its money. He averted his eyes. “If you insist.”

In fairness, he did feel a little better after a hot shower and a change into clean clothes. That only made him slightly more emotionally prepared to face Ren. He hesitated for a moment, gazing down on him where he sat on the couch’s middle seat; then he carefully took a seat on the far right.

Silence ensued. Goro suspected Ren didn’t know what to say any more than he did. What _did_ you say to the man who had killed you, who was also your new lover?

So:

“Do you hate me after all now?” he wondered.

Distressingly, Ren took his time to respond. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “It’s… I’m not sure how I feel.” He stared at him. “You’re really the Black Mask?”

Goro nodded once.

“You said he was dead.”

“I said he was sentenced to death.” He rubbed his neck where nylon had once chafed. “Which is true.”

“You said you were a soldier,” Ren pressed, heated.

“I said I fought in the war for the Emperor. And I did—as an assassin. I never said I was a soldier.”

Ren’s jaw clenched; his stare hardened. “You lied to me.”

He lowered his gaze. Technically he hadn’t, but pedantry wouldn’t serve him well here. He’d deceived him all the same.

At length, the tension drained from Ren on its own. “…but I guess in a way, I lied to you, too.” He buried his face in one hand and stared at the cushion between them. “Fuck. I can’t believe it was you the whole time. ‘I still have trouble distinguishing faces.’ God! You must’ve been laughing inside at that one.”

“I really, really wasn’t.”

“Fuck,” he repeated.

Goro peeked up at him. He looked so upset. His hands twitched with the desire to reach for him, but—no. Touching Ren now would only make him more upset. He bowed his head and settled for clutching the locket hanging from his neck.

Perhaps seeing this, Ren followed suit, opening his own up to stare at the photos within. “God,” he whispered. “This was just today we put these pictures in. It feels like forever ago.”

“It does,” he agreed softly.

He leaned his head on the back of the couch. “It was just a month ago that we met. Met again,” he corrected himself. “No wonder you felt different from everyone else. No _wonder_ I felt like you were my missing piece. You fucking _were_ . _You_ were what I’d lost, all this goddamn time.”

Goro chuckled bleakly. “You opened Pandora’s box, and at the bottom was despair.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He looked away. “Mm.”

Ren, though, kept staring at him for a long while. At last, he stretched out a hand and brushed Goro’s bangs out of his face. He looked up sharply, tensing up, but Ren’s touch was so gentle, and his eyes so full of agony… Goro wanted desperately to touch him, and got his wish when Ren pulled himself close and wrapped Goro tight in his arms.

“You were what I lost,” he mumbled into Goro’s shoulder. “God. I can’t lose you again.”

His eyes widened. Tears streaked unbidden down his cheeks like falling stars. Hesitant, he slipped his hands up Ren’s back and held him back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Kurusu-kun, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” Ren pulled away enough to hold Goro’s face and look him in the eyes. “Don’t call me ‘Kurusu.’ I don’t know who that is.”

Unsure of how to react, Goro hesitated.

“I mean it. I talk about his life like I remember it, and—I sort of do, but… it’s like I watched a reel of someone else’s life. A lot of the details I told you about, I actually read out of his journals. I don’t…” He hung his head. “I don’t know if I’m Akira or not. This is his body, maybe even his soul, but I don’t know if he’s _me_.”

Goro clutched Ren’s shirt, sick to his stomach. “I did that to you.”

“You did this to me,” he agreed dully.

“You… must hate me.”

“I do hate you.” He looked up, tears in the corners of his eyes. “And I love you. I love and hate you so much, I could start screaming and never stop.”

He understood exactly what Ren meant, and that only made him feel sicker. “So… what now?”

Ren fell silent. After a moment, he scooted close to hold him again. Goro let himself relax into Ren’s embrace.

“I promised I’d get you out of here. I’ll keep that promise,” he said softly. “Whatever you did to me—to all of us—that Persona generator bullshit is sick. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“Which is me,” Goro said in a weak attempt at humor.

Ren chuckled. It was strained and awkward, but he still chuckled. “Yeah. So it’s gotta go.”

“And then what?”

“I… don’t know.” He paused. Then, quietly: “I don’t want to let you go.”

He shut his eyes. “Do as you will with me, then. I told you so before.”

“Fuck,” he croaked with the pain of new context. Silence hung like a corpse between them. At length, he whispered, echoing himself from earlier, “You’re what I lost. I can’t lose you again.” He squeezed him tight; then he pulled away, a fire burning low but hot in his eyes. “I can’t lose you again. I need you, Goro.” He cupped his cheek with one hand. “You’re staying with me.”

His heart fluttered as his head went light. It was a verdict so much better than what he deserved. “As you wish,” he whispered back.

Ren smiled then, expression gentling. He brushed Goro’s hair out of his face, a gesture both entirely unnecessary and infinitely tender. “You really do regret it?”

Goro nodded once.

“I’m not the only one you hurt, you know.”

“I know.”

“You’ll have to apologize to everybody.”

Goro grimaced. “I… I know.”

“And they might not forgive you. They might never forgive you. And they have the right not to.”

He hung his head. No point in repeating himself a third time.

“But you’ll be safe with us anyway. I won’t let them hurt you, no matter how much they hate you. My crew might bicker, but we don’t fight each other for real.”

His heart thumped hard as he peeked up. “You’ll still have me on your crew?”

“One way or another. I’ll have to talk it through with everyone, but we’ll figure something out.”

He nodded once, feeling a little less burdened. “Do… _you_ forgive me?”

Ren pursed his lips. “I… won’t lie, I still have complicated feelings. It might take me a long time before I can honestly say I _forgive_ you.” His gaze gentled; he brushed his thumb along Goro’s cheekbone. “But I don’t care. If I left you behind somewhere, I know I’d regret it. So we’ll work it through together. All right?”

A ghost of a smile haunted his lips. He nodded once. “You really do love me,” he murmured in wonder.

He gave him a wry, crooked smile back. “What, you thought I was lying?”

“No, no, I—I just can’t understand _why_. You went on and on about how much you hated me back then.”

“You’ve changed. For better or worse, you aren’t the same person you were back then.” He paused. “And… I don’t know. I hated you, but I didn’t _hate_ you. You were just…” He stroked Goro’s cheek slowly, back and forth. “You infuriated me, but I was drawn to you. You were… important to me. I think.”

“You ‘think’?”

“I told you, ‘Akira’ is more like a film I saw than a life I lived. A lot of my memories surrounding you in particular are really fragmented. But that’s the feeling I get.” He paused. “Plus Akira wrote a lot about you in his journals. I mean, a _lot_. Like wanting to punch you in your quote-unquote ‘stupid handsome face,’ and being mad about how hot you looked in cycling shorts, and stuff like that. I always thought it was kind of ranty, but looking back it’s actually super gay.”

Goro snorted with unexpected laughter. “Lusting after an infuriating rival? How familiar.”

He laughed too. “Yeah, I thought you might relate.” His smile faded. “Seriously, though, you really are different now. For one, I can’t imagine the you from back then miserably apologizing for what he’d done. You’ve grown.”

He had a point. Goro had a hard time imagining that, too. Still, to claim he’d grown? “I’d like to believe that.” He gazed to the side, where his manacle laid heavy on his ankle. “But the past has a way of chaining me down, then and now.”

“Then we’ll shatter those chains. Once and for all.” He paused. “Unless you don’t want to?”

Goro hesitated. His heart laid itself bare within him. “No, I—I want to come with you.” He slipped his arms around Ren’s shoulders and pulled him close. “I love and hate you too. There’s nowhere I want to be more than with you.”

Ren sucked in a breath, but there was a joyful quality to it, somehow. He held Goro back until the shadows fell and draped them both in soothing darkness.

Abruptly, yet predictably, the usual pain throbbed in Goro’s chest. Reflexively, he grunted and flinched.

Ren pulled away. “What’s wrong?”

Goro shook his head as the lighthouse beams circled outside. “Oh, the light turned on, that’s all.”

Ren frowned at him, then at the passage of the beams outside. He stood up. “Let’s get some light on in here, too.”

Once they’d turned them on, Ren went upstairs. Goro followed him and saw him scowling at Robin Hood rotating slowly within his cage.

“What’s wrong?” Goro asked. “You already knew about this.”

“I _did_ know. And I didn’t forget,” he added, tone snipped. “It’s just… got new context.”

He gave him a wan smile. “Think I deserve it now?”

Ren’s expression cycled between anger and sadness and something else Goro couldn’t identify. Then he sighed in apparent frustration and went back downstairs.

Or so Goro thought initially, but Ren passed the living quarters floor and circled down until he reached the lighthouse base. There, he rested a gloved hand on the generator where Loki was continually processed. Then he began to circle around it, inspecting its curves and lines, hunkering down and climbing up as needed.

Goro, who stood by to watch, asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’ll tell you when I figure it out!” he called back from the top of the generator. A moment later, he brightened. “Ah! Here we go!”

He knelt down and pulled something open. A panel, perhaps? Goro realized he’d never actually seen the top of the generator. Sae’s engineers had always handled all generator maintenance. Either way, Ren scrutinized something up there on his hands and knees. Then he nodded and hopped down.

“I have an idea,” he announced. “I’m gonna go run it by Futaba, see what she thinks. But if we’re lucky, you’ll be free in just a few more days.”

Goro’s back straightened. “How do you plan on pulling that off?”

Ren winked. “That’s for you to enjoy finding out.”

He scoffed, but he also smiled. “You incorrigible tease.”

Ren grinned back wolfishly. “You know it.”

* * *

For the next few days, Goro’s biggest concern was what to keep in the lighthouse. Ren and his crew took the furniture and other gifts away, and they brought his record player, vinyls, and books with them, but he still needed his day-to-day items. At first, he worried about how he’d bring those over whenever Ren pulled his plan off. Whatever it was, Goro felt reasonably sure it involved Sae and her ship, and he doubted he’d have the leisure to take anything that wasn’t already prepared and ready to go. Nor, for that matter, did he have any luggage. Fortunately, when he brought this up, Ren lent him a large gym bag.

So he packed several basic changes of clothing, extra underwear, his toothbrush, hairbrush, scrub brush, soap and towels, and so on. He kept _The Midnight Fog_ with him. However things went, he suspected he might want a little entertainment on hand. His plants…

Well, fortunately, Haru wasn’t spiteful, at least not when it came to greenery. She volunteered to bring his plants over to the S.S. Mona. When he told her the truth about himself and apologized, she slapped him so hard his teeth rattled and carried the plants over anyway.

“It’s not _their_ fault you’re a monster,” Haru informed him. “I’ll take good care of them until you’ve been set free. I promise.”

It went somewhat similarly with Futaba, to his surprise. Ren brought her over to inspect what he’d found on the generator. They whispered together until they’d come to some satisfactory conclusion. Goro watched them scheme, and then after he’d helped Futaba down, told her the truth and apologized to her, too.

She looked at Ren first. When he wasn’t surprised, she shoved Goro away.

“Don’t touch me, you creep,” Futaba snapped. “Once you’re on board as an official new recruit, _oh boy_ are you gonna get the hazing of a lifetime!!”

Ren hopped down on his own and watched Futaba stomp upstairs from next to Goro. “That went well,” he said bracingly.

“Mm. Better than it did with Haru,” Goro agreed, rubbing the cheek she’d assaulted in memory. “I don’t know how I’m even going to handle Kasu—I mean, Sumire.”

“That one you should probably let lie for a while. I mean… it’s _really_ complicated for her.” Ren rubbed his forehead gingerly. “She lost who she is as much as me. Maybe even more. At least I’m me, whoever the fuck that is. She genuinely thinks she’s her dead sister.”

Goro glanced away momentarily. “That can’t be healthy. Whatever you’re letting Rev. Maruki do, she can’t keep living a lie.”

“You’re probably right.” He paused. “No, you _are_ right. I—” He sighed in frustration. “I told you before, it took me years to get a hold of myself. By the time I was in a position to captain a ship and get a crew together, she’d been ‘Kasumi’ for years. Considering how fragmented _my_ sense of self was, I didn’t think it was right to rip that away from her. I mean, I was letting everyone treat me like a person I wasn’t sure I am, you know?”

He nodded slowly. He didn’t agree, but he understood.

“So I let it be, and I told everyone else to let Maruki handle it. But… she hasn’t gotten better. She _seems_ fine, but she’s not any closer to her real self than she used to be.” He drew his hand down his face. “…but telling her the truth now… I can’t imagine how badly it’ll fuck her up. Maybe I don’t have the right to do that to her.”

“If I’m going to apologize and make amends, I’m going to do that for what I actually did,” Goro said quietly. “I’m not going to admit to the truth and then perpetuate a different lie.”

Ren stared at him for a moment. Then he nodded once. “Yeah. You’re right again. I’ll talk to Maruki and we’ll figure it out.”

“Do you think it’ll work out?”

“I dunno. We’re going to upend her entire sense of self by making her remember probably the most traumatic event of her life. Even without that, you killed her sister. If she hates you, she’ll have a right to.”

“…Yeah.”

He reached over and grasped Goro’s hand. “…but if she does, she’ll have to hate me too for keeping you around. Whatever ends up happening, I’ve got your back.” He smiled. “You’re my North Star. I can’t just let you out of my sight.”

Goro looked at Ren’s reassuring smile and realized he believed him.

* * *

On the morning of the first of July, when Sae brought her ship up to the lighthouse, the S.S. Mona pounced. Since Sae was always the first out to greet Goro, and he was right there like always, it went quickly; Ren, now clad in the long black coat and feathered top hat that were apparently part of his style as the pirate Joker, simply captured Sae and demanded the crew’s surrender. Naturally, it helped that he had the rest of his crew, now similarly masked and costumed, to back him up and ensure no one on Sae’s side tried anything daring. Goro noted Makoto in particular hung back.

“What I want from you is a trifle, really,” Ren—or rather, Joker—said as he held Sae at knifepoint, blocking her off from her ship as they both stood on the boarding platform that connected it with the lighthouse. “If you’re charged with being this man’s warden,” he jerked his chin towards Goro, “then you must have the key to shut down the generator.”

“What do you want that for?” Sae demanded, arms over her head, gaze darting from Joker to Goro and back again. “I assure you, it won’t do you any good without a fuel source!”

Joker shook a finger with a _tut-tut-tut_ . “I don’t care about the _generator_ .” He flashed Sae and Goro a razor grin. “I’m here to steal the _true_ treasure of this lighthouse.”

Goro couldn’t help a smile. Ever the incorrigible flirt.

“Did you know about this?” Sae asked Goro tightly. “Are you aiding and abetting pirates?”

“I’ve done worse in my time,” he replied mildly.

“You’re here to atone for those crimes! I thought you understood that!”

His shoulder tensed and his face hardened. “I _do_ understand that, far better than you realize. That’s why I’m leaving with them. How am I supposed to atone here, still the same puppet as I was when I murdered in His Majesty’s name?”

Something shifted in Sae’s otherwise steely expression. She didn’t respond.

“In any case, I recommend you do as they request, not just for my sake, but for your own and your crew’s. They’ll let you go free unharmed if you cooperate.”

Sae’s eyes narrowed; she looked from Goro to Joker again. Joker nodded once. She looked over at her crew, likewise held up at the ends of various weapons held by hands both human and Persona. The crew looked back at her with fear and expectation. Finally, she nodded once back.

“The generator key is in a locked box in my quarters, which are also locked,” she stated stiffly. “The keys for each are on a ring at my belt.”

“Take them out,” Joker commanded. “Slowly, please.”

“Hmph. Politeness doesn’t suit you,” Sae quipped, even as she moved to comply.

He grinned. “It’s against my policy to be needlessly rough.”

She clucked her tongue, but held out the key ring. Joker took it, then flung it back in an impressive arc towards Sae’s ship.

“Queen!” he called.

Makoto zig-zagged forward and caught the keyring with grace. “On it!” she called back, then took a crewmate inside with her, presumably to guide her to the captain’s quarters.

Sae’s expression clouded as she watched her disguised sister go. Goro watched it for a moment, then stepped closer until he was near enough for them to talk without being overheard by her crew.

“How attached are you to the Emperor, Sae-san?” he murmured.

She glanced at him. “What are you getting at?”

“I doubt you’ll be rewarded for how this interaction is going to play out,” he pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be better for you if you came with us?”

“Don’t be absurd,” she hissed.

Joker tilted his head thoughtfully, knife still held at Sae’s throat. “Hmmm, _m_ _m_ _m_. Could use a good hostage to keep them from firing on us when we leave,” he mused.

“Don’t be absurd!” Sae repeated, now glaring at him.

“I’ve heard of you before, Captain Sae Niijima,” Joker said, ignoring her. “You’ve got a strong sense of justice, but when Emperor Shido usurped the country, you had a choice to bow your head or get it cut off. You made the choice you did to protect yourself and the family you had left, though your sister ran away from home not long after.”

“What? How—?”

Joker waggled a finger, cutting Sae off. “Don’t underestimate the underworld’s information network.”

So Makoto had run away… Goro glanced at Sae, who bowed her head, expression twisted with agony and anger. That explained a lot. He wondered if she treated him as relatively kindly as she did out of a sentimentality borne of losing her last family member.

“You know the current regime is unjust. You’re clever and observant. And you must hate being forced to fall in line,” Joker continued. “What do you say? I could use someone like you on my ship.”

Sae glared at him for a long moment. However, her voice was even when she asked, “What is it you’re planning to do?”

“Who knows? At the very least, I don’t intend on letting His Imperial Majesty sit easy on his ill-gotten throne.”

“Hmph.” She glanced sidelong at Goro. “And so you’re after this lighthouse’s ‘treasure’… I see.”

Goro met her gaze but didn’t respond. Let her make the conclusions she wanted.

She focused back on Joker. “I can’t take your offer,” she said, low but crisp. “Someone has to be there at the heart of society to make change from within.”

“From within, huh,” Joker mused. “You think you can manage that?”

Sae lifted her chin. “Call me a gambling woman.”

Briefly, they shared faint smiles, so faint that Goro suspected only the three of them could see. At that moment, Makoto—or rather, codename: Queen—returned. She pushed her captive under someone else’s watch and strode up the platform. Avoiding looking at Sae directly, she held out a strangely shaped key that resembled a rat-bitten sheet of metal with a round handle. Joker accepted it, then tossed it over to Goro.

“Go,” Joker commanded. “Free yourself.”

Goro sucked in a sharp breath and clutched the strange key to his chest. In the instant he hesitated—that Joker’s attention was on him—Sae swept a fierce kick up at Joker’s wrist, knocking his knife high into the air, and drew her gun. Queen knocked her to one side as she fired, so her shot went clear. However, as a former expert marksman, Goro saw: Sae’s shot never would have hit Joker anyway. She was creating a distraction for them.

Joker, too, drew his pistol, fired, and missed on purpose; the shot instead cracked the glass over Goro’s head. “ _Go_!” he shouted.

With a sharp nod, Goro hurled himself to the stairs and dashed to the bottom. Outside, he could hear the sounds of a pitched fight. He understood that, too. If Sae and Joker were going to make an alliance of sorts, it wouldn’t do either of them any good unless they seemed like bitter enemies on the outside. But it needed to end quickly, or else someone might get seriously hurt or killed.

He needed to free his selves: Goro, Loki, and Robin Hood all.

The chain clattered and clanged around him, whipping back and forth like an angry snake, as he reached the last few steps. Placing the strange key between his teeth, he climbed up the side of the generator. Loki buzzed with anticipation within. The panel on top had been left open, and he saw immediately what he needed to do: there was a slot that the strange key would fit perfectly, and a red button that could twist between ON and OFF. Currently it was ON. Goro thrust the key in, felt a jolt pulse between himself and his Persona, and switched the button to OFF.

He could _feel_ the lighthouse die. All around him, the lights dimmed and expired; the ever-present hum of the water filters went silent; the air itself turned a degree hotter and muggier; and though it was far away from his physical senses, he knew the light cage high above them both disengaged. All the trapping of civilization and comfort were gone, but he was free, damn it, he was _free_ . His soul sang, his _souls_ sang, and the pieces that had been torn from him returned. He stood tall and raised a hand to his face, where a mask burned blue.

“LOKI!!” he snarled, and tore it away.

The striped, cackling entity formed above him, a massive sword in one hand. Sweeping Goro to safety with the other, Loki sliced the damnable engine in half with a single sweep.

His chains shattered, leaving behind the manacle and a few scant links.

As the generator crackled, sparked, and flamed, Goro sprinted up the stairs, his pace unimpeded. He slowed only to snatch up his borrowed gym bag from the living quarters floor and swing its band over his head and across his chest. Robin Hood was gone from the now-cracked crystal cage, and instead came when he burst out the lighthouse door.

“ROBIN HOOD!” Goro called. Above him, his other self took aim and fired an arrow of light through Sae’s ship’s hull.

The puncture was high enough that it wouldn’t sink it; he made sure of that. But it was low enough that Sae and her crew wouldn’t be able to afford to ignore it either, let alone chase after an escaping pirate ship. When she and Joker paused in their sword duel to gape at him, Goro strode forward.

“Get out, Sae,” he commanded. “And tell my worthless father I’ll be his puppet no longer!”

Their eyes locked for an instant. Near-imperceptibly, Sae nodded. Then she broke away from Joker and sped back to her ship.

Joker grinned, sheathed his weapons, and held out a hand to Goro. Relief and fierce joy flooded him as he returned the gesture. Joker pulled him close and held him fast, then jumped off the plank. A wire shot out from his left wrist and caught on Sae’s ship’s mast; at exhilarating speed, the two of them swung down and around and up. At the zenith of the swing, they crossed over to the S.S. Mona on its other side in midair, twisted around as the wire disengaged, and landed on deck, Goro in Joker’s arms.

“We’ve taken the treasure, gentlefolk!” he shouted to his crew. “Now let’s take our leave!”

A fierce victory roar rose from the shipmates of the S.S. Mona. Those who had boarded Sae’s ship returned at speed and threw off the boarding equipment. Joker set Goro down to join them and give orders; Goro, for his part, moved out of everyone’s way and watched. Leaving Sae and her crew to scramble to deal with the damage to their ship’s hull, Joker and his crew sped around the lighthouse and away to the south.

As it shrank from view, Goro watched flames lick up from its base until the entire lighthouse transformed into a massive torch. Sae’s crew thus had to deal with _that_ , too, and was forced to sail to the northwest back to Tokyo rather than south in pursuit. Of course, Goro had a feeling that was as much intent as it was necessity, and that this wouldn’t be the last he’d see of her. That was a secondary interest to him right now, though. With a rush of giddy, spiteful joy, he smiled at the burning lighthouse and felt nothing for the ashes it would leave behind.

A presence shadowed his right; Joker rested an arm around his shoulders. Goro glanced at him, and he smiled back as he pulled off his hat and tipped back his mask.

“How do you feel?” asked Ren.

“Spectacular,” Goro replied, and meant it. “Even the pain’s fading away. I’d gotten so used to it, my entire body feels light. I feel like I could do anything right now.”

“Glad to hear.” He glanced down. “Looks like the manacle’s still left, though. We can get some bolt cutters and—”

“No,” he interrupted. “No need.” He looked down at his ankle and shook it a bit; the few bits of remaining chain clattered. “I’ll keep it on. As a reminder of my sins—and a sign of my penance.”

“All right. If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

For a moment, they stood together in silence. The salty wind tousled their hair and ruffled their clothes. Then Ren leaned a step back, moving his hand from Goro’s shoulders to the crook of his elbow.

“Let’s go,” he said, more a suggestion than a command. “I’ll show you around. You can drop off your stuff in my room.”

Goro raised his eyebrows at him. “Your room?”

“There aren’t any spare rooms you could have to yourself, and I assume I’m the person you’d least mind bunking with, so… yup! My room.”

He laughed a little and fell in step with him. “All right. I’d like that.”

“And afterwards, there’s something you need to say to everyone. Right?”

He swallowed a sigh. “Right. I may have spoken to Haru and Futaba already, but… I’m rather nervous, to be honest with you. Especially in regards to Sumire.”

“Don’t be.” Ren pulled him a little closer and squeezed his arm. “I’ll be right here with you. We’ll make it work.” He smirked. “And then we’ll go make your shitty dad’s reign a living hell.”

And that did help. Goro grinned. With a certain light dawning in his heart, he followed where Ren guided him—all the way to a new beginning.


End file.
